A New Beginning - Revised
by Lum
Summary: Erik leaves for America after Christine's betrayal. While designing a home for a wealthy plantation owner he can't keep his eyes off of his employer's lovely daughter. Once burned, twice shy, can Erik overcome his fears in order to find love? Kay Leroux ALW. This is the revised version.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**

I do not own the rights to the Phantom of the Opera. This is a work of fiction based on the works of Gaston Leroux, Andrew Llyod Webber, and Susan Kay. I in no way intend to infringe upon the copyrights of above said artists and am making no profit from this work. This story may contain adult situations, language, and romantic scenes which may not be suitable for minors. Read at your own discretion.

**A New Beginning**

**Prologue**

Erik surveyed the destruction of his lair. The mob had ruined everything, looting anything they thought of value and tearing apart anything that wasn't. The magnificent organ he had lovingly composed upon was now beyond repair.

Several of the ivory and ebony keys were ripped from the frame and the metal parts were twisted and distorted beyond recognition or use. He depressed one of the remaining keys and cringed when the once beautiful note came out sour. He sighed heavily as the destruction weighed in his mind.

The beautiful room he had once prepared for Christine was robbed of its beauty. _'Christine… even my beautiful, sweet Christine has forsaken me to this cold, unfeeling hell.'_ He crossed through what was once an ingenious torture chamber, the metal tree was the only thing left whole as each and every mirror was broken or cracked into thousands of pieces. The scattered remnants were strewn across the floor, shattering into smaller fragments under his boot as he crossed.

Making his way to his bedchamber he noticed that his coffin had been left undisturbed. _'Stupid, superstitious lot,'_ Erik thought to himself as he shook his head and sighed. He moved to the far wall and using a sharp piece of debris managed to pry loose a piece of stone in the wall. Mortar chipped away slowly as he worked it free. His tall, lanky frame easily allowed him to remove the stone near the joint of the ceiling.

Reaching into the crevice he retrieved a heavy bag, and looked inside. The gold, gem-encrusted cat collar from Persia and other valuables lay undisturbed. Ayesha, the longhaired Persian he had stolen from the Shah, had long ago passed away from old age. This was the only thing that remained of her. The cat had been spiteful and rude, but she had never left his side.

The heavy weight of gold and gems reassured him that forethought is everything and he would recover from this mess, as he did every time disaster struck. It was time to pay the daroga a visit; it was time to leave France. Where to go, however, was the question.

**One Month Later**

To say that Nadir Khan was surprised to see Erik in his apartment when he returned from the apothecary would have been an understatement. "Erik, must you always attempt to make my old heart stop with you ghostly appearances and disappearances? What is it you want of me now?" he asked.

Erik relaxed into the leather wingback chair by the fireplace and quietly studied the Persian man before him. Locking the door behind him and crossing to the opposite chair Nadir deposited his packages on the side table and sank into the comfortable leather. Erik solemnly regarded his companion a moment before he replied, "I am leaving France. It no longer holds my interest. I have several tasks that require your assistance."

Erik thought a moment, as if considering how much to say. "I require money, and as you can guess it has become difficult for me to procure it. You will withdraw 50,000 franks from the bank account I entrusted to your care seven years ago. Of that sum you will purchase a complete wardrobe for me, one that befits mildly cold winters and hot summers, with the remainder of the money you will buy bars of silver and gold. Afterwards, you will place an advertisement in the Saturday paper composed of three words, 'Erik is dead'." Erik looked at Nadir as if he might object.

Nadir pondered this, and nodded slowly,"these tasks are simple enough Erik. What would you have me do with the rest of your funds?"

Erik stroked the arm of the chair and replied "consider it payment for your silence and cooperation; I will no longer have a need of French notes." The daroga regarded the man before him silently, taking note of the slight wearing of linen with faintly torn stitching at the shoulders.

He wondered what had transpired in the past month for his meticulous friend to become so exhausted looking since Christine had fled. "Why do you wish me to print your obituary, Erik?"

Erik smiled grimly, "When she left, that night, I told her to return to the lair and bury the engagement ring along with my body."

Nadir seemed slightly puzzled by this, "what trickery do you mean for her?"

Erik raised his hand to his heart in mock-grief, "you wound me daroga. I mean her no harm. You will bury my coffin, nailed shut, after she leaves her ring. She could never be happy if she thought me alive and suffering…" he answered softly, almost to himself. His head snapped up as if he had forgotten the man sitting in the seat before him. "I believe I have been more than generous tonight in answering you infinite questions.

I leave in One week's time, I expect you can accomplish everything in that time?" Erik asked with a sneer. The daroga nodded solemnly as Erik excused himself from the room. Nadir thought a moment before silently shaking his head.

**One Month Later**

Erik looked out the window at the faint, hazy line of land amidst the deep blue waves of the Atlantic. After weeks on endless sea the ship headed to America was finally at its destination. The faint shadow of buildings seemed to arise out of nothingness, as if the angry sea had merely spat it out of its depths one day.

The statue of a woman clothed in draping robes beckoned the weary travelers forward with her light of liberty and book of promises, a calm and just expression upon her face as she stood on her lonely island. It was perhaps a bit ironic that he was fleeing France only to later be welcomed into the land of freedom by a French statue.

The ship slowed and rocked as it berthed at the New York docks, the foul, cloudy waters churning. A waft of brine and urine filled the air as young boys and men worked to tie the boat to the wooden posts. They shouted and scampered and Erik thought that they looked a bit like rats scurrying between the ropes.

After weeks at sea he had finally landed in America, the land of freedom and opportunity; his salvation.

**Author's Notes**

I originally wrote this story in 2006 and never completed it. I've decided to finish what I started and to revise the story and correct any errors. If any of my original fans are reading this: thank you. I'm sorry it's so late.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: please see the prologue for the disclaimer.**

**A New Beginning**

**Architect**

**Erik**

Erik stayed in New York for a few short months while he established his reputation as an architect amongst the plethora of wealthy upper-crusts that inhabited the cleaner, safer parts of the city. It was as if there was a great divide amongst the wealthy and the poor; an invisible wall that separated the two. It was a fortunate few immigrants that ever made their way from the docks to the inside of the city for a barricade of prejudice and inopportunity served to block those who sought freedom and prosperity from their goal.

It was his relentless tenacity and his ability to twist the human mind that aided him in his transition into the mostly highly sought after architect and engineer. News of his infamousness never crossed the sea, nor would it have hindered him. The American aristocrats were starved for Parisian flair and European class, and Erik was the man who could deliver. His aloofness and oftentimes cruel manner aided him in blending in by standing out. None dared question the obviousness of the half-mask for fear of sparking one of his rages.

He was not, however, without his kindness. The opportunity arose to travel to Chicago to design a building, a skyscraper, so named because it was the contractor's dream for it to appear to touch the sky. The pay was meager for the amount of work and thought that this building demanded. In the end it was the challenge that swayed his decision. To build the tallest building in America and compose it mostly of fragile glass was a trial that he relished.

As a child he had been obsessed with mirrors. They were at once his bane and his salvation, and he conquered them with ease. They exposed the truth, yet they could be manipulated. And he was a master of illusions.

He delighted in the challenge of this impossible building, and threw himself into work as if he'd have died the moment he rested. And if there was one thing Erik desired more than power it was knowledge. They claimed that his task was impossible. He vowed that he would prove them wrong, as he had so many countless times before.

Erik's reinvention of the ancient Greek technique of reinforced concrete revolutionized the modern world. Buildings were no longer limited to wood and stone and they posed less of a threat to fire or damage. It was this boost of fame that spread his name like wildfire amongst the wealthy all the way to Virginia, and that name was Erik Durmand. It was in this simple state of mountains, fields, and expanding cities that fate decided to hand Erik a new card.

One late April evening Erik received a letter detailing a wealthy merchant's plans to build a second home for his family. The invitation arrived crisp and clean. It was a fine, expensive piece of thick cream parchment sealed with blue wax stamped with the image of a sparrow in flight. The note itself was short and simple, giving the newly famous architect a brief description of the patron's wishes. It was the simplicity of the language and the distinct lack of pompous arrogance of wealth that saved the letter from fueling the fire in the hearth of Erik's library. He gave it another glance before browsing the neatly scripted lines once more.

_Mr. Durmand,_

_I am contacting you in regards to a business arrangement. I am in need of an architect to design and oversee the building of a second home that is to be a gift for my daughter. She has quite an imagination, one that has proved too daunting for other architects. Payment for your talents will be generous with an added bonus if construction is completed within one year. I eagerly await your reply,_

_Johnathan Swift_

_Raleigh, North Carolina_

Erik stared into the fire, seeing beyond the crackling flames as he puzzled over the proposition. A daughter's supposed imagination that would send lesser men running intrigued him greatly. At the same time he was wary. His brief affair with the master stonemason and father figure Giovani had ended abruptly and horrifyingly with the death of the architect's daughter, Luciana. Spoiled and naïve Luciana was his first glimpse of tragic beauty. He still blamed himself for her death. And Christine, sweet and beautiful Christine who had forsaken him too still haunted his thoughts. She had trembled with fright and acceptance as she kissed his cheek in the cellars below the grand opera house, as if his face were there to merely torment her. It was because she would give her body and voice to him but not her heart that made Erik let her go. He had vowed to live his life in studious bachelorhood. If only he'd found enough work to keep him occupied. Lately, he'd grown bored. The skyscraper had been a unique challenge. But Americans were tedious and he had grown tired of reading the same proposals day after day. Taller, bigger, more. Everything must be new and bigger and better than the last. But there was no appreciation for subtlety or uniqueness beauty. His genius was wasted, yet again.

Thoughts of Christine still haunted him in his moments of rest. Selfishly he would not have her if he could not have her completely. He knew that while her body was willing to spend the rest of her life with him, her soul would have withered into dust before the year was out. She was a creature of light and happiness; he was one of dark and despair. She could have never loved him as he wished her to, and so he pushed her away before he destroyed her. He was doomed to live alone. Erik glanced at the letter again before letting it fall to the floor by his feet. He removed his mask with a deep sigh and ran his fingers over his face as he often did when faced with a difficult or trying decision. Brash he was not, and neither was he foolish. Daughters posed a threat to his sanity.

Weighing the pros of relieving his boredom against the cons of dealing with another young woman Erik decided to accept the invitation. He had decided that denial was the best way to deal with this, and chose to believe that the daughter must be very young for no young miss was equipped with imagination in this day and age. _'Imagination is bled out of young women by governesses just as illnesses are with leeches,'_ he thought. He made a resolution that night, one he was destined to break irrevocably, that he would never again have his judgment clouded by the cold beauty of a woman. He rose and crossed to his writing desk to find a piece of unused parchment.

**Madison - 3 Months Prior**

Madison looked out the small window of the carriage that tumbled and bounced down the uneven country road on the cold January morning. She was almost unseated as one of the wheels found a particularly large dip in the road. She grunted at the impact as Robert the head stableman who her father employed at the estate shouted down his apology. She smiled to herself and yelled back to him sarcastically, "Robert, do you think it would be possible if we could hit every bump in the road today? I think you missed one back there!" He laughed warmly as he maneuvered the horses around the worst of the road.

She craned her head to view more of the magnificent scenery. Winter was holding fast but would soon be giving way to spring, which was the busiest time of the year for her father. The Swifts had been providing grain to the dozens of farms and merchants in the Raleigh area for more than two generations. Soon the springs in the mountain would begin to thaw and the power source for the large wooden mill would be renewed for another six months. The corn that had been drying out all winter in the large storage bin by the mill would finally be ground. The coarser meal would be sold to farmers as livestock feed while the finer meal would be ground and sold to general stores in the capital and smaller, surrounding cities.

The corners of Madison's mouth turned upwards as they passed an apple orchard, tiny green buds of leaves struggled for sunlight among the winter-roughened tree branches. Soon the orchard would be bursting with greens and pinks and whites as the apple blossoms opened and gave off their sweet perfume. Spring was her favorite time of year and she was greatly looking forward to it. In just a few months the air would warm and the change to spring and summer would usher in a lovely riot of colors. It was as if Mother Nature were waiting to shake off an old blanket to reveal a fresh young radiance. As the carriage jostled past the edge of the orchard and rounded a familiar bend she knew that they were nearly home.

No matter how many times she saw it the large pale blue house always took her breath away. Perhaps the white trim needed a fresh coat of paint and the shutter furthest from the door was a little crooked, but it was home nonetheless. The old plantation house had been built by Madison's great grandfather in the late seventeen hundreds. It was built in the Greek revival style. A square two-story building with large Corinthian columns connected to the wrap-around awning; they provided support to the house and shade against the hot summers as well as a place to sit and sip cold lemonade. A small, plainer building off to the side had been converted from the old slave's quarters to rooms for the summer harvesters.

During her grandfather's time the corn fields had been harvested by slaves. Her grandfather was neither cruel nor kind. He valued hard, honest work and was a fair man. After the civil war when many ex-slaves could not find work in the north they returned to the south. Her father now employed over a dozen servants to maintain the house and mills all year, and hired twice as many harvesters to tend the fields at the end of the growing season.

Madison held her heather soft grey wool walking skirt to one side as she stepped down from the carriage; freshly polished black leather ankle boots stirring up dust from between the rocks that made up the gravel driveway. She looked over her shoulder as the horse master and occasional stagecoach descended from the driver's seat. "I'll bring your luggage inside in just a moment, miss." She nodded curtly and murmured a thank you as she began to make her way to the front door. The housekeeper, Ummi, opened the door and waved merrily and Madison could not help but break out into a huge grin as she saw the woman who had cared for her since she was little. After four long years at school she was finally home.

* * *

Madison braced herself against the heavy oak bedpost as the housekeeper, Ummi, tightened her corset. "Is my father still going on about that new house he wants to build?" she asked between pulls.

The housekeeper tsked at the question before giving the corset one last good tug, tying the laces as she replied, "Miss, you know I don't pry, and it certainly is none of my never mind what Mr. Swift does or does not do. I mind my own business. But if you ask me, he is only asking for trouble with those fancy architects. What's he gonna do with another big fancy house anyways? But it's none of my never mind and I'm not gonna say anything." Madison smiled at the woman as a long sleeved day dress was thrown over her head and she was laced and buttoned and tugged into her clothes.

Ummi had always been more than the housekeeper to Madison. She had been working in the Swift household ever since she was old enough to work as a scullery maid. Her mother had been the housekeeper at that time, keeping the house in order and the workers working. She was diligent and efficient. Ummi had quickly risen in the ranks as she grew older, and eventually took over her mother's role in the household when the woman grew too old to work the long days that were required.

When Madison's mother had died Ummi had taken over that role as well. She had governesses and tutors of course, but Ummi was the person she went to when she scraped her knee while attempting to climb the large oak by her bedroom window, or when her father scolded her. Madison smoothed the fabric of the forest green dress over her hips and tucked her white chemise further out of sight.

The deep green of the fabric offset her hazel eyes, making tiny flecks of green and gold come alive. Picking up a brown velvet hair ribbon from the white vanity table she pulled her long, wavy blonde hair back from her face. It was the shade of honey being poured into a jar, a shade that brightened in the sun and darkened in candlelight and had a slight wave that added fullness to her oval face.

She was fair of face and figure, but no great or stunning beauty. Her hips were too full and her nose was rounded at the end. Her most redeeming feature was her smile, which when freely given lit up her eyes and softened her face. She hated the unladylike smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. They betrayed her carefree spirit to everyone she met. Years of hat wearing like a proper young miss had done little to make them disappear as she bloomed from childhood to adulthood.

A few tendrils of hair that were too short to be tied back framed her face. She sat before the mirror studying her profile before she stuck out here tongue and crossed her eyes. Ummi caught this and shook her head, "are you a young lady, or a little miss?" the woman asked in a chiding voice.

Madison smiled bashfully into the mirror and powdered her freckles.

She wandered down the main downstairs corridor trailing one hand against the brightly decorated cloth covered walls while the other held a book of poems against her hip. She was lost in thought as she made her way to the library, one of the few rooms she ever actually spent any large amount of time inside.

The sun was shining brightly through the freshly cleaned windows and illuminating the oak flooring and the few pieces of furniture that occupied the long hallway. She was lost in thought as she passed the dining room and reached her hand to the ornately decorated brass doorknob that opened one of the large French doors that led to the library.

Her skirt rustled about her ankles as she closed the door behind her and crossed to one of the extensive bookshelves. She pulled book upon book from the shelves, Shakespeare and Homer, romantic novels by Jane Austen and Mary Shelley's dark novella Frankenstein. She devoured the written word for her passion had been stifled at boarding school.

Madame Trousseau's Finishing School for Young Ladies was of the mind that a young woman's time was better spent embroidering handkerchiefs and learning the delicate art of being a proper hostess than reading and filling one's head with silly ideas of justice and equality.

According to Madame Trousseau, whom Madison found out was not even really French, the only books a woman needed to study were Shakespeare and a few choice poet's works. Even then a lady was limited to the comedies and lighter fare, save Romeo and Juliet; tragedies such as Macbeth or Hamlet were unsuitable reading material for a gently bred woman for they might upset her disposition or offend her senses.

Madison had been nearly bored to tears. Every year she pleaded with her father that she would be much happier at home and every year he denied her wish and packed her off to the capital in order to become a proper young woman. She had long outgrown private tutors and governesses what with being nearly nineteen years of age now. She sighed happily as she handles the heavy stack of books in her arms.

Sitting in one of the comfortably overstuffed chairs by the windows she looked through the pile of books and selected Utopia, by Thomas More. She placed the other books on the small table beside the chair and opened the small leather tome.

Later that eveningMadison stretched lazily in the large reading chair. She had indulged herself divinely by reading the day away as the sun arced over the house and disappeared beyond the horizon. She had finished the short book Utopia and moved onto a collection of poetry, the book she had carried to the library.

Midway through one of John Keats' poems she noticed that she was straining to read the words. The sun had set and she would need to light a candle if she wanted to continue. Her stomach growled to remind her that she had been too enraptured in her novel to take the noon meal. Replacing the novel she had finished and the poetry book into the bookshelf she made her way to the kitchen to see what cook had made for supper.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue**

**A New Beginning**

**Home,** **Reasons, & Meetings**

**Madison**

Winter gave way to spring after one last bitter, freezing night. The few short weeks of calm warmth and sunny patches in the neighbor's apple orchard seemed to immediately would soon turn into a blanket of muggy heat as summer cast its oppressive light.

Madison had taken to sleeping late into the afternoon and staying up till dawn. She had plenty of things to occupy her time. She read in great long bouts for hours at a time until she became restless and the printed word could not hold her attention any longer. Then she would lie outside in the grass and listen to the rhythm of nature as she gazed at the stars and watched the clouds slowly roll across the evening sky and wrapped the blanket tightly around herself.

The crickets would chirp and the dozen or so bats that lived in the attic would swoop out of the shuttered attic window to circle the trees and feast upon insects. She traced the constellations with her fingers and attempted to recall the great Greek and Roman myths of how the stars were born.

Sometimes, when neither novel nor constellation could keep her mind occupied, she painted. Canvases turned to landscapes where the rays of the sun lightened the sky and cast a rosy golden hue over the land as it rose. Always she painted nature, the apple orchard in early Spring's bloom and the babbling mountain brook that powered the large mills.

When the corn fields ripened she would paint them too, rows and rows of rich emerald green as long as the eye could see. Her paintings would never be masterpieces but they were pleasing and they entertained her.

There was a sense of rawness to her work, as if a piece of her soul had been ripped from her and placed in the drawing. Art was much too passionate a past time for her. It was a hobby that she could only practice for so long before the mere sight of a brush or pigment sickened her.

She was like water, flowing quickly and violently over rocks and branches, never stopping for long because still waters stale quickly. Life thrived in her, yet it seemed as if she had no way of controlling it or directing its shape. She was as much a slave to her whims as they freed her.

As Madison was reading one night by lamplight her attention began to wander. Her father had said something at dinner, it was a brief comment made in passing that she soon pushed to the back of her mind because it had not made sense at the time that is was spoken.

When she had asked him how everything was faring in the business he mumbled a quick retort before softly saying "and that fellow still has not arrived…" almost as if it was a thought he had not meant to share.

She could not help but wonder on it now as she rested comfortably in bed, the unfinished novel cast aside.

The next evening Madison sat in the chair to her father's right at the dinning table, smoothing the soft blue linen skirt of her dining dress.

Cook had prepared a delectable meal of herb roasted chicken cold cuts from the previous dinner accompanied by an array of cheeses, an assortment of fresh, crisp vegetables, and fluffy yeast rolls. If it was not an expensive meal then neither of the two Swifts noticed. Her father tucked into his dinner whole-heartedly.

She sipped the fine, sweet white wine that accompanied the meal as she thought of how to best broach the subject of the new house to her father, and she finally decided that the direct approach was often the best.

"Father, what ever became of you plan to build the second home that you mentioned in the letters you wrote to me while I was away at school?"

Jonathan raised his eyes from his plate, his bushy eyebrows rising a bit before he rested his fork against the china. The piece of chicken he had been about to consume dangled haphazardly from the prongs as he replied "I had hoped to surprise you, but it seems I never could keep a secret from you for long. You get your stubborn curiosity from you mother you know…"

Madison smiled softly, "and every time I broach the subject you attempt to distract me. Out with it, old man," she chided.

He cleared his throat. "You remember how you used to draw your dream house? Oh you talked non-stop about it. You created such fantastical, impossible rooms." He paused a moment to gather his thoughts, carefully phrasing the next portion.

"I've decided to hire an architect to help you design and build it," he stopped to sit up properly in his chair, "and once it is completed your things will be moved and you may have your own home."

She blinked a moment, and gave herself time to go over her father's words and comprehend all possible meanings. "But I'm quite comfortable here, father," she replied, "why should I ever wish to leave you?"

At this his face flushed slightly and he spoke to her in a calm but firm voice, "you will need your own home to be mistress of when you are married. It will not be far from here, the small patch of land bordering the Applegate's orchards will be the perfect spot, I believe."

She stared at him in disbelief, placing the crystal wine glass on the table before she dropped it. "But father, I do not wish to be married. I am happy here, with you."

He shook his head remorsefully, "Why do you think that I have been adamant that you attend finishing school these last few years? No, no, my mind is quite made up. The architect will be arriving shortly and when the house is completed you will be wed. I care not to whom, pick any lad who you admire. So long as he is a smart and honest man who can continue the plantation once I've passed."

Her chin dimpled as she pursed her lips in a fine line of discontent, her eyes misting. She felt the pinprick of tears and refused to cry from the frustration and disbelief that she felt because her stubbornness did not permit any sign of tedious female weakness.

She protested, "but father…" but he interrupted her.

"Darling, you are my only child. When I pass this house and these lands will go to your cousin. Under the law I can only gift a quarter of these estates to a non-heir child. All I can do to protect your future is to secure for you a small portion of land and a home that can not be taken from you."

It was so unexpected in a liberal man such as her father. Their family was not entitled or of a long European noble lineage, merely farmers who turned quite a profit and seemed to have a knack for taking a small profit and making a larger one. The social influences of England and France still presided in America, though less profoundly or directly. And there was little pressure on the Swift family, being as remote and forward thinking as they were.

"I refuse," she stated simply, assured that she could convince her father is she were unbending enough.

He sighed and the furrows in his forehead deepened as his brows drew together in a frown, "you can not refuse, darling. Put quite bluntly I am kicking you out of my house. You are nearly twenty and spinsterhood does not befit a young lady as pretty as you. You will be married, and that is the end of this discussion."

Her chest heaved in turmoil as her eyes widened from the shock. She knew when her father had made up his mind. He was a logical and practical man. Madison tucked her chin and clenched her fist as she fought to hold back tears. It was clear by the set of his jaw that he would tolerate no further discussion as he returned his attention to the lovely meal that now seemed less appealing to Madison as she fought to control her temper. She pulled the cloth napkin from her lap and placed it on the table beside her plate.

"Please excuse me, father, I find that I no longer have an appetite." She rose from her chair before he could utter a reply and fled the room, her skirts swished as she hurried out the room and down the hall so that he could not see her tears as they rolled hotly down her cheeks.

* * *

Madison's father was like a giant boulder on this subject of marriage. He was a gargantuan obstacle that held steadfast and dense. He refused to listen to her pleas, short bursts of anger, or fits of melancholy.

She had decided that since none of her words could move him to pity and reconsideration then he would receive no more questions or answers, hellos or goodbyes, neither a single phrase, word, nor letter. All in all she had simply decided to never speak to him again for as long as she lived, or until he finally came around.

When asked at dinner to pass the salt she acted as if he had never uttered a word. She looked past him when he walked by her in the hallway and she turned her cheek when he attempted to kiss her goodnight. She refused to accept her fate.

He was saddened by this but would not give in to her childish behavior. Madison passed the days by keeping herself busy and refused to dwell on this particular dilemma. She read, painted, and went horseback riding through the edge of the mountain's forest. She did anything so that she would not have to think of her impending nuptials.

There were no concrete reasons for her skittishness about marriage, but there was merely a heavy dread that hung in the pit of her stomach. Her father and mother had been happily married for three years before her mother died in childbirth with Madison. But she had seen the young men in town. Their narrow views and goals did not impress her. A husband would control her life and her body, if not her mind. _'It is not fair,'_ she thought _'many men remain happy bachelors and yet it is considered unacceptable and unnatural for a woman to remain unmarried.'_

She feared her days of freedom and independence would end with marriage. A husband led to children and she was still unsure of her feelings on that matter. Women often died in childbirth, or soon thereafter. Her mother had not survived the ordeal. Elizabeth Swift had passed merely hours after giving birth to Madison.

Madison reached into the collar of her shirt and withdrew the locket with the tiny portrait of her parents. She studied the well-worn painting of her mother as if the painted canvas could offer her advice.

Madison stroked the portrait with her finger. It was an act that she had repeated many times while she grew up. _'What would you think of me, I wonder. I've been acting like such a child. But I'm afraid, mama. There is so much that I wish to do in the world… a world that I have barely seen. I want excitement and adventure, like in the stories that I've read.'_ She looked around the room and snapped the locket closed.

The silence that raged between father and daughter had gone on for weeks. Architects and designers and planners came and left. Each threw up their hands in frustration. They told her father that she was unreasonable and that her designs were outlandish and impossible. She held fast. Her father threw up his hands as fewer and fewer architects answered his summons. Weeks passed in silence and Madison settle back into her routine. There was a small measure of peace in the Swift household once more.

One evening at the height of spring April clouds gathered and cast an ominous shadow over the horizon.

Bad weather had been rolling in from the north that evening. April storms could prove as fierce as their summer counterparts. That evening's storm was a battering of torrential rains accompanied by booming thunder and streaks of angry lightning. Madison had remained awake late into the evening as she sought solace in another novel. The lightning lit the sky brilliantly as she sat curled in the wingback chair of her father's library. The oil lamp on the small table cast a friendly glow as she turned a page. A horse's cry and men shouting brought her from her book. She made her way to the window and peered outside. Another flash of lightning lit the scene below. There was a man atop a great, dark horse. And he had stopped just outside of their doors. Her brow furrowed as she said softly to herself, "what man would be foolish enough to ride here on horseback in this weather? He is lucky that he has not been thrown… or drowned."

She exited the library and checked that the belt of her robe was secured at her waist. The thin overcoat of the wrapper provided some amount of modesty, covering the thin and nearly transparent material of her finely woven cotton night shift.

The fabric rustled around her ankles as she hurried to the second floor balcony that led to the front stairs. The sounds of a fist banging loudly upon the giant oak door resonated in the hall. Her dark blonde hair fluttered around her face, forgotten as the unruly locks escaped the single plait down her back.

**Erik**

He had arrived at half past midnight as an ominous shadow atop a great black stallion. The Arabian whinnied and shuffled nervously as a bolt of lighting flashed in the distance and booming thunder followed closely behind.

The horse reared back and pounded the earth in annoyance as he landed and Erik gripped the reins and saddle tightly. He led the frightened horse forward as rain dripped rivulets of water down his sodden hat and past his oiled leather cape. He deftly leapt from the saddle and strode towards the protection of the porch.

The door opened to his pounding and an old manservant, hastily dressed in the dark, stared back at him in confusion. Erik left the horse as he was ushered inside the entryway. Rain and wind pelted him until he was safely inside and the door bolted against the tempest outside.

**Madison**

She reached the end of the hallway in time to see the old manservant open the front door. Rain had darkened the marble entryway as the storm gusted outside and the rider, swathed in darkness, stepped over the threshold. In a bustle of activity the butler hurried to pull the door shut as it fought against the winds.

Madison could hear snippets of their short conversation, gathering that the stranger had asked directions in town and begun his way before the storm hit. It was true that they could come on suddenly and catch a person unawares. She was curious that he hadn't seen the dark and pendulous clouds.

She knew there was little in the way of housing or shelter between here and town and that he had been forced to continue his journey in the pelting rain. The old manservant assured him that the master would not mind him staying the night. The butler opened the door and slipped outside to attend to the poor and frightened horse.

Madison watched the stranger as he surveyed her home. He was tall and broad shouldered, and his damp clothing hugged his muscular frame.

The stranger removed his hat, giving her full view of the rest of his features. She was curious as she examined him. A white half-mask hid most of his face, leaving only a teasing glimpse at his sensuous mouth and defined jaw line. His dark hair was mussed from the wind, but it was an effect that did little to dampen his otherworldliness.

"Traveler, to which plantation is your destination?" she called out to him from over the balcony. She watched as he jerked his head up in surprise to look at her. Amber eyes met green as they studied each other.

**Erik**

'_Christine,'_ that was his first thought. As he looked at the vision above him his weary hard-traveled eyes sharpened. _'No, not Christine.'_ The eyes and hair were different, her face not as poetic and her figure not as small or slender. He stared at her a moment, entranced, her hair seemed to halo around her face as its soft waves escaping their confinement.

The dim light provided just enough to see soft arms that rested against the banister or the stairway, to see the curve of her neck that disappeared into the fine white fabric, and just enough to see the soft swell of full breasts and wide hips through the thin material.

The fabric of her night shift rose and fell with the steady rhythm of her breathing. Erik noticed her studying him, her gaze wandering up and down his torso, falling on the mask in silent questioning.

She was a vision of lovely womanhood, and a sharp reminder of what he could never have. Their eyes locked again, but this time his were guarded.

**Madison**

Madison regarded him thoughtfully, entranced and at odds. He brought a curious fluttering to her stomach accompanied by a delicious warmth to her cheeks. He was a striking figure, and when he answered her she hardly heard the words for she was so wrapped up in his lovely voice. She shook her head free of the cotton that must surely have replaced her brain as she asked "I beg your pardon?"

"I am seeking the Swift household, mademoiselle. Do you know of its location?"

The fluttering in her stomach turned heavy as the flush faded from her cheeks to be replaced by a vague feeling of dread. "This is the Swift household, my father is Jonathan Swift. But for what purpose have you come?"

"I am an architect and designer, traveling here at the direction of your father."

The butterflies had turned to rock. She stared at him in wonderment and despair. Her hands clenched at the banister. The butler opened the doors and stared at the scene before him. "I see you've met the young miss, then. This way sir and I'll have you settled in for the night."

Madison gave a huff of disapproval and one last withering looks as she turned abruptly and stormed down the corridor to her bedchamber.

The manservant seemed puzzled and apologized to Erik as he led him upstairs to a guest chamber, "don't mind the young miss, sir. She has not been acting herself lately. Here's your room, sir, I'll have cook send a breakfast tray up at nine. If that's all, sir?" Erik nodded his ascent and the butler closed the bedroom door. Erik shook his head to clear it. He would never understand women.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue**

**A New Beginning**

**War, Healing, & Discovery**

**Madison**

The architect had been with them for a week. He was a strange man to be sure. He took his meals in his room as often as possible and conversed with someone only when forced.

Her father had informed the man that she would be more than happy to accompany him to view the piece of property in which the house was to be built on. Neither Madison nor the architect was looking forward to this unavoidable endeavor.

The day of the guided tour of her father's property dawned bright and warm. The southern summer had begun early that May and the soon maturing fields would need to be harvested just as the weather began to cool in September. The gypsies that traveled near the town would arrive in just a few more months. Her father often employed the young men as harvesters to aide their few able-bodied servants and local harvesters.

A droplet of sweat trickled from the crown of Madison's upswept hair to pool between her breasts. Her cotton chemise was plastered to her skin under her lightweight linen dress. Despite the pleasant temperatures the many layers of women's clothing added an extra degree of uncomfort.

She reluctantly led the way across the plain between the house and the cornfields as they headed towards the neighboring property, a large and prosperous orchard owned and farmed by the Applegates.

Madison eyed the architect warily out of the corner of her eye, looking him up and down. He was garbed in the same clothing that he always wore: black linen pants and a white linen shirt. She noticed that his face and collar were damp from his perspiration and the red, irritated patch of skin bordered the half-mask that he never removed. He felt her gaze upon him and turned to catch her eyes.

Amber bored into hazel as they locked gazes. They stared each other down, neither uttering a word as they competed for dominance. "You must be _very_ hot wearing that leather mask constantly in this heat," Madison goaded.

He did not blink nor show any sign of emotion as his gaze remained cool and distant. "It's such a pity that women must wear so _many_ stifling layers of cloth, especially in the warmer months. You must be very uncomfortable," he replied. A twitch of anger flashed across her face as her brow tightened and her eyes narrowed slightly.

Madison broke their locked gaze as she continued her stomping across the field. He knew that he had irritated her by the tightness of her shoulders and the forcefulness of her gait.

His eyes traveled down her figure to settle on her derriere. It swayed deliciously as she walked, a fact that she was most likely unaware. She seemed to be a naturally sensual creature which was made more interesting by her unawareness.

Erik smiled slightly to himself as he followed behind her, his gaze never lingering from her swaying hips. She stopped suddenly after a distance, placed her hands on her hips and turned around to face him. "This is it," Madison stated sourly as she eyed the piece of land her father had gifted her with.

Looking at that stretch of land made the whole ordeal absolute, as if her never seeing the patch of grass and trees her wedding gift would soon be built on made it less real to her. There was no denying it now; as soon as the house was constructed her father would expect her to begin planning her nuptials.

As the sun continued to rise and sweat dampened her brow Madison narrowed her eyes and decided that she would find a way to counteract her father's plans. She swore to herself on that grassy knoll that she would never be married. "I will find a way," she murmured to herself, "simply because I must."

Erik regarded her warily, barely catching the softly muttered phrase. She would be trouble, that much he could tell. She was temptation personified with a fire that burned inside her, a passion that could consume him as well as destroy him if he was not on his guard. But he was always on his guard, and just as she had sworn to resist he swore to himself that he would persevere.

And so the war between two began.

* * *

Erik spent the next afternoon calmly surveying the Swift's plantation house. It was unremarkable but well built, ideal for the hot summers. Large windows provided ventilation and illumination with thick white curtains that blocked some of the day's heat.

The tall ionic columns supported the roof while providing ample shade for a place to sit on the balcony during the cooler hours of the day. He peered upwards at the most interesting part of the building, a small cube of windows set in the direct middle of the roof. While not unheard of he hardly expected to find a solarium in an American household.

He re-entered through a servant's side entrance, passing quickly through the halls as he further explored the house. It was a straight-forward and simple design resembling the man who owned it. Erik explored the rooms one by one, passing through the dining room to the library, through one salon and then another.

A maid polishing the staircase told him where to find Mr. Swift, "the master will be in his study at this hour of the day, sir," and pointed him in the right direction.

He quieted his steps as he heard arguing voices from the crack in the study doorway.

"You simply cannot be serious father, would you really sell your only daughter off to the highest bidder? Am I just a slab of meat then, to be flung at the first buyer?"

"Madison, you know that I love you with all my heart and that I would never do anything to put you in harms way."

"And yet you still insist that I give up my life, my freedom to some perfect stranger?" Her voice was strained in anger as she attempted to refrain from yelling.

"You are free to choose whichever lad you fancy, poppet. Surely you know that other fathers would not be so thoughtful."

Erik caught a glimpse of her as she paced before the door. "After everything…" she paused to gather her thoughts and began anew, "I cannot believe that you would still make me do this. Father, you know my subjects on the matter" Her voice wavered as she continued, "I want to see the world and be free to choose my life. I'll not be caged, no matter how gilded it is."

A note of sadness seeped into her father's voice as he answered, "Madison, my love, I want only the best for you. I cannot protect you forever. I will leave this world one day. It would be an ordeal for you to run a plantation by yourself. Women simply do not have the same privileges that men do. I have educated you as no other father would. You had the finest tutors and governesses to teach you science, mathematics, history, and foreign languages. And it would still not be enough. You will need a husband to help you. Surely you can see that I am doing this for your own good?"

Madison wiped the dampness from her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt as her father rose from his chair to embrace her. She cried into him as his strong arms embraced her, letting out out years of frustration and hurt and when she was done he stroked her hair and murmured words of comfort.

She pulled back from his hold to look him in the eye. "I will still make the architect's time here is unbearable."

Jonathan laughed at this as he rubbed circles in her arms and said, "I am sure you will, my sweet, of that I have little doubt. But somehow I think this fellow can take your abuse. I only hope he pushes back and gives you a taste of your own wicked medicine. Do you know how much money you have cost me thus far? He is the fourth I have had to hire. Try not to run this one off, dearest," and he kissed her forehead.

Erik backed away from the study door not wanting to be caught as the two exited.

**Madison**

Madison entered the stable slowly taking her time to savor the smell of the sweet hay, earthy manure, and sweat. It was a calming place that grounded her and allowed her to let down her walls for a quick respite.

She visited the horses routinely, always pausing to give a quick scratch on the ear or rub on the nose to any creature that needed a little bit of comforting. Madison smiled as one gelding followed her from one side of his pen to the next in an attempt to receive more attention.

Soft murmurs pulled her thoughts away from the needy horse to the far end of the stable. A strong back covered in soft white fabric came into view as she inched her way forward.

None of the servants ever wore white, favoring a soft grey instead. White was a luxury, a color entirely too hard to keep clean when one worked hard all day. Broad shoulders that curved into a strong neck kissed with dark hair revealed who had intruded into her place of solitude. It was the architect.

She watched the muscles in his back stretch as the figure in the last pen moved to pull the ebony horse closer. He fondly stroked the creature's nose, whispering seductively into the mare's ear.

Madison's eyes roamed his figure. He was tall, lean, and wiry with just a hint of finely toned muscle under the linen shirt. His chest was broad and narrowed slightly at the waist before tapering into slim hips.

Looking at him made her feel strange. Her face flushed and her stomach tightened as the hairs on her arms stood up in goose bumps despite the remaining warmth of the day. The setting sun was visible through the gate at the end of the barn.

Golden rays of the dying sun cast their last glow on the Earth as the giant orb sank slowly into the horizon. The barn was positioned in such a way that the stables were lit at the moment of sunrise until the last second of sunset.

The architect stood just so in the fading light so that he was illuminated from the side, his white shirt and pale skin glowing golden as if he burned with an inner light. It softened what she could see of the white mask, blending it into his face until it became an extension of the flesh.

**Erik**

He knew she was there, studying him as he soothed and petted the mare.

Erik continued to stroke the horse's neck while he listened to the young woman's soft breathing. He noticed the slight hitch when he rolled his shoulders back, heightened his already tall frame and turned away from her so that she could see how broad his chest really was.

Smiling devilishly he looked over his shoulder at her as if he had just noticed her arrival. Erik saw how her hand rested absently on the dappled gelding's nose, the forgotten horse whinnying softly as his lips nibbled her hand while it tried to win back her attention.

His eyes slowly roamed her figure before coming back to rest at her flustered face. His smile grew wicked, the ends turning up at an angle, as he let her know that he knew she had been watching him. Erik's chest rose and fell with silent laughter as the rumbling, honeyed sound barely escaped his throat. She was quite lovely with her face flushed from embarrassment and her eyes sparkled with unconcealed loathing.

It was such a pity that she had chosen to hate him. Although he of all people knew how thin the line between love and hate truly was. The true opposite of love was indifference. His laughter grew into quick bursts of mirth as she turned and fled the stable. Her feet planted angrily into the earth as she stormed her way up to the main house.

He watched her retreating form, his eyebrows knitting together in thought and confusion. Why had he thought of love? The word resounded in his head and brought forth memories of his beloved Christine, the way her hair curled around her face and her eyes had always betrayed her moods.

He thought of his all consuming obsession with the soprano beauty and the way that even she had deserted him in the end for her cherub sculpted lover the Vicomte de Chagny, the cursed man who had wooed away his prize.

He found he could not despise the man as much as he desired to, or as much as he needed. In the end Christine had trembled with fear while she kissed him. She had been afraid that he would ask for more. And so he had let her go. Her eyes had always been cruel in their fear and sadness, emotions she felt only when she thought of him in those last few weeks.

Erik shook his head to clear it of the cobwebs of old memories that he had tried to sweep into the last crevices of his mind. He patted the sweet-tempered mare one last time on her nose and exited the stables. The daughter would be trouble, nothing he could not handle but trouble indeed. Yet he found he could not keep his eyes from her.

Knowing he should keep his distance from the girl whenever possible and knowing that at the same time he could not tormented him. _'Why must the angel in Hell, the loathsome gargoyle always yearn for beauty he could never have,'_ he thought.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Please see the Prologue.**

**A New Beginning**

**Parlor, Emotions, & Desire**

**Madison**

The first evening when they were to sit together to examine blueprints and sketches began dreary and gray Madison found it ironically suitable. Rain pelted the windows in clumps as the wind whistled through the old oak tree just outside the library window.

Madison waited impatiently as the architect organized paper, ink, and candles. The dark, heavy rainclouds blocked out all traces of the sun making candlelight necessary despite the early hour of the evening.

She watched him as he struck the match against the table and a yellow flame burst to life for a few short seconds; he lit the candles one by one lighting three in all so that there were no distorting shadows on the table's surface.

The graceful turn of his wrist as he shook the match to distinguish it was such an intimate thing to watch. She followed the line of his arm up his shoulder until her gaze settled on the unmasked portion of his face.

He eyed her warily before reaching for the first parchment and unrolling it carefully. She turned her attention to the drawing and studied it intently.

Overall the rudimentary drawing was ornate, flowery, and completely wrong.

She studied it anyways, looked at the dimensions and pillars. There were two stories containing four bedrooms, three water closets, two dining rooms, the obligatory kitchen, one solarium, three parlors, and one pathetically small library.

After she was sure that she had looked over every inch of the design she raised her eyes to his, "What on Earth would I do with three parlors? You really must be joking."

He eyed her with curiosity.

She continued, "I know that I have avoided you as if you carry the plague, but really, you must have learned something of me by now. You simply cannot be dense enough to believe that this ostentatious house would suit me."

He studied her openly, eyes widening slightly with mirth, the corner of his mouth rising in mischief, "is that so…" he murmured softly.

She paused, straightening her back as she looked away uncomfortably. Madison had never really noticed his voice before. His thick French accent was magnified by his rich, tenor voice. It had a way of lowering inhibitions, and making her stomach flip. A faint blush stained her cheeks as they locked eyes.

She had never really studied him before excluding the quick, stolen glances. Yet she found herself lost in his brilliant amber eyes. Madison decided that they were the color of ripe wheat and warm gold with just the barest flecks of brown and green. They were cat's eyes that no human should ever posses and she felt as if they might truly see right through her secrets. They were unsettling yet amazing and she struggled to not get lost in them.

His head lowered slightly as if to grant her a better view, like a proud king obliging a peasant with one last look at his magnificent presence before the commoner was dismissed. Madison noticed how close their knees had drifted towards each other and raised her head slightly as she chewed her bottom lip in absent contemplation.

"It won't do at all?" he asked smoothly. She startled, eyes snapping up to meet his from where they had drifted to his plush mouth. "What?" She asked absentmindedly. He replied, "you were saying that these plans won't do."

She mistook the mirth in his eyes and voice as secret ridicule and pursed her lips together. "No," she said while leaning away from him, "it won't." Madison pushed her chair back from the desk and rose to her feet haughtily, "I suggest, Architect, that you begin by turning one of the larger parlors into a better library, that is unless you find women all together too incompetent to appreciate the written word?"

Erik kept his face under control as he fumed at her abrupt mood swing and condescending tone, "Mademoiselle, it has been my observation that most young females would more enjoy the company of seamstresses and gossips than philosophers and poet."

Madison seethed, infuriated that he would assume her to be like the other girls at finishing school, girls that would rather embroider roses and talk about the latest young man than discuss more worthwhile topics such as Shakespeare or politics.

"You are mistaken, sir" she ground out between clenched teeth. Taking calming breaths she unclenched her fists and decided against smashing his nose with her fist like the stableman Robert had taught her that summer when she was twelve. After she had collected herself she continued coolly, "Perhaps we should continue another day? I suddenly find my self sick to the stomach. It must have been something I ate." Madison smiled sweetly.

"Perhaps that would be wise. Until tomorrow after the evening meal, then. I trust that your constitution will have improved?" Erik asked calmly. Madison's clenched jaw ruined her falsely sweet smile as she bid him goodnight and exited the room in a swish of angry skirts.

He watched her leave, both delighted and wary of her obvious temper. His first assumption that she would be a child or a simpering miss had been summarily dismissed and disproven time and time again as she sparred with him verbally. He leaned back in his chair as he lazily looked at the rough sketches from a previous job and wondered how upset she would be if she found out that he had not even bothered to create a new design in the two weeks that he had resided here.

Erik smiled lazily as he pictured her angry countenance. She was truly at her most beautiful when she was infuriated. Luckily for him it was an often occurrence.

**Erik**

Erik peered out the bedroom window onto the front lawn. From this vantage point he was able to see the daughter, Madison, as she conversed with a young man. He watched her hands moving freely as she talked in a manner that suggested comfortable familiarity. He noticed a slight twinge of jealousy as he watched her amble towards the apple orchard with the boy.

It was not that he had any emotions about the girl, he half-heartedly convinced himself, and it was just that seeing her with that boy had stirred buried memories of his beloved Christine, memories that should remain buried.

He turned from the window as they disappeared into the trees and were lost from his sight. Erik clenched his hands into fists against his side as his eye caught his reflection in the small round mirror by the washbasin. Anger poured over him but was soon replaced by an old and familiar grief. He dipped a rag into the water and brought it to his face. Wiping the deformed and sagging skin he threw the rag back into the basin and reached for his mask.

**Madison**

Madison walked with James, the only son of the farmer who owned the neighboring orchard. She noticed the trees and their buds that promised fruit, "you'll be very busy next winter, James, the apples are growing so quickly this year." The young man looked at the trees and then back at her, "we'll have a good haul this year; we only had to cull twenty trees, much better than last year." Madison nodded absentmindedly.

James gripped her elbow and turned her to face him, stopping her in her tracks, "what is the matter, Madison? I don't think I've ever seen you this preoccupied before." She looked at him a moment before sighing in exasperation, "it's my father."

James' face took a look of concern, "he isn't ill I hope." She shook her head and sighed deeply again. "Two sighs in one afternoon, surely things cannot be that bad," he said while smiling sympathetically.

A look of sorrow flashed across her face as she seated herself under the shade of an apple tree and explained, "It's just that my father is forcing me to get married. Oh, don't look at me like that, James, I knew that I would have to eventually; I just didn't think that it would be so soon. It sounds silly, I know, but I always thought that I would marry for love. And now it looks as if I won't have even that chance."

James, silent, sat beside her. "It could be worse," he stated after a few moments of companioned silence, "he could have arranged it for you without your consent."

Madison looked at her childhood friend in complete horror, "I had never thought of that." She turned her head down to watch the sun glisten through the leaves in dancing patterns on the grass. James studied her profile, noticing the dance of light across the bridge of her nose and the few freckles that adorned her cheeks and felt a tiny fluttering in his chest. His palms began to sweat and a small lump formed in his throat as he said barely above a whisper, "you could always marry me, you know, if no one else suited you."

Madison stared at him in silence for a moment before grinning and shoving his arm, "you almost had me for a moment, James, I nearly believed that you were serious." He laughed nervously to cover his embarrassment and looked away. "So what are you going to do?" he asked. She studied her boots and let out another sigh, "I have no idea."

It was late into the evening when Madison returned home. She climbed the stairs to her bedroom wearily, pulling apart the ribbon that held back her hair. She had just grasped the knob to her chamber when the architect opened his door across the hallway.

Turning at the sound her gaze locked with his and an uncomfortable silence passed between them. "Just returning home?" he asked. She drew herself taller, straightening her back, "not that it is any of your concern, but yes, I am just now getting in. You look as if you're dressed to go out. Are you leaving?"

He smiled lazily, "not that it is any of your concern, but yes, I am going out." Madison glared at his back as he descended the staircase and exited through the front door.

Madison entered her room and began to undress. She unbuttoned the row of tiny buttons at her side and pulled the lavender dress over her head. Pausing in thought she let her mind wander to the events of the day but was interrupted by a knocking on her door. "Who is it?" she called out.

"It's just me, wanted to see if you needed help undressing for the night," Ummi called through the door. Madison called for her to enter and sat upon the vanity chair as the woman began to unlace her corset. Lost in thought and unaware Madison missed Ummi's question. "Child, what is bothering you so much?" the housekeeper asked in a chiding tone of voice. Madison looked away from the mirror and smiled grimly, "I can't stop thinking of my having to marry so soon… and that architect that father found."

Ummi's eyes twinkled mischeiously, "is there some reason you talk about that man in the same breath that you talk about gettin' married?" Madison's eyes widened and a very faint blush bloomed in her cheeks, "of course there isn't."

Ummi chuckled at this contradicting response and reached for the silver brush that lay on the vanity. "Not that it's any of my business, but if you don't mind me saying so I've seen the way he looks at you when you're lookin' somewhere else. I also seen the way you look at him when he's lookin' somewhere else. You sure there ain't nothing on your mind concerning him?"

Madison glared firmly in the mirror at the woman before giving up her pretense of an angry countenance, "he's just so strange. Part of me wants him gone immediately, but a small part also wants him to stay so that I can unravel this enigma." She sighed and dropped her angry shoulders in defeat, "I don't know what to think anymore."

"Well," Ummi began, "he certainly is charming, and what ain't hidden by that mask is handsome enough. Still, I can't help but wonder what he's hidin' underneath it. It ain't right walkin' around with half your face covered up."

Madison smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear as Ummi finished brushing out the tangles, "I'd almost forgotten about it," her voice trailing off as if in deep thought, "maybe he has a scar, from a duel or something…" Ummi tsked and put the brush down, excusing her self from the room after saying goodnight.

Madison rose from the vanity clad only in her chemise and strode to the window. She could see the lines of the trees and fields as the crescent moon and stars faintly illuminated the surroundings. Her breath caught as she saw a figure leaving the yard on horseback. She knew instinctively who it was.

* * *

The daily meetings to design the second home were proceeding tensely and with barely concealed seething anger. Madison refused to budge and Erik refused to draw the rooms that she requested. "You simply cannot grow an oak tree in the middle of a house. It is ridiculous and I refuse," he said.

Madison glowered at him, strands of hair escaping its confines as she glared in his direction, "my father hired you to draw and oversee the building of this house. Perhaps if you do not have the talent or the skill to create what I desire than you should resign from your position and leave?" She crossed her arms underneath her breasts and smiled devilishly, her right brow quirking in amusement.

Erik gripped the pen tightly in his hand, ink running from the tip and spotting his fingers and trousers. They were seated next to each other at the small drawing desk, his body turned towards hers. At the moment he wanted nothing more than to close his large hands around her slender neck and squeeze. He fought the urge, but barely.

She smirked in triumph before smiling sweetly, "I'll call Ummi and have her pack your things. You can leave straight after supper." She rose from her seat, calm and collected. When she attempted to turn and leave the room Erik's hand shot forward and wrapped around her wrist.

Her smile disappeared, "let go of my arm, monsieur." Erik rose from his seat and towered over her smaller frame, his other hand grabbing her other wrist. He stepped towards her and she stepped back, and together they stumbled to the wall until her back was pressed against it and he leaned in dangerously close.

She suppressed the small shiver that ran down her spine and settle in her abdomen and stared at him with wide eyes. Her back arched towards him until their torsos nearly touched. "My father will have you hanged if you even so much as break a strand of my hair. Release me." Erik dipped his head towards her and pressed her harder into the wall. Removing the anger from his voice and allowing it to flow sensually he leaned his face beside hers and whispered into ear, "Your mouth says 'release me' but your body says 'stay', I don't think you know what you want… in many circumstances."

Madison's face flushed in anger and desire as his rich voice seemed to caress her, just as his breath stirred the fine hairs on her neck. Her breath came in shallow gulps as he loosened his hold on her wrists and stepped closer until he closed the space between them and nearly touched the length of her. He stood like that a moment, drinking in the smell of her natural scent mixed with her perfume, delicate orange blossoms.

Another shudder ripped through her torso as her nipples tightened and dormant parts of her began to stir.

A knock at the door ripped them apart as Ummi came bustling through the door. She took in the scene before her and stopped in her tracks. "I brought you two more candles," she said, holding up the goods in her arms as proof. She stepped forward to the table and replaced the burned down stubs of wax with new ones.

Looking from one figure to the other Ummi furrowed her eyebrows and pursed her lips. With candle stubs in hand she walked though the doorway, but instead of closing them turned and glanced at the figures behind her and said, "I'll be leaving this door open, miss Madison, and If I see that it's closed later while I'm on my way to bed, I'll open it again. Good night," and left them alone.

Madison listened to the housekeeper walk down the hallway, her shoes making soft clicks on the hardwood floors, and sighed shakily. Her cheeks burned with a fierce blush. Ignoring the architect she pushed past him and left the study briskly.

Erik closed his eyes and groaned softly, raising one hand to the masked portion of his face. He had forgotten himself in a moment of anger and desire and had allowed the phantom to regain control. Bowing his head in solemnity he remembered his vow to design the house quickly and be on his way, and sighed forlornly. The lingering scent of her perfume haunted him.

* * *

Madison perched on the window seat of her bedroom window, the book she had been reading, Jane Austen's _Pride and Predjudice_, lay abandoned haphazardly in the folds of her lace trimmed nightshift. She ran a hand through the ends of her braided hair and stared blankly out into the night.

She tightened her hold on the book and brought it to her chest, leaning into the glass window pane. It felt cool against her cheek and was a pleasant respite from the muggy heat of the day. May had turned into June and the corn was growing rapidly. The fields would be harvested soon, and the weather hinted at a possible second harvest before the end of the growing season. This meant that father would be seeking out the gypsy boys soon.

The gypsies had camped outside of town just in time for the season's first harvest. They traveled this way every year, staying for a few weeks to do field work and stock up on supplies before heading northwest. They were not welcomed in most towns, distrusted and feared, but Madison's father had made an effort to befriend them by offering decent pay for the hard labor. His kindness allowed them to be honest workers instead of hated thieves.

She looked up at the stars and sighed, tracing shapes into the fogged glass. They faded slowly as her breath evaporated and she was left staring up at the heavens.

* * *

Eric sat at the desk that that had been placed in his room. He scribbled furiously on a sheet of scrap paper; it was a list of the rooms she had demanded. He expanded and changed them, making them more than the unfinished dreams of a child. For hours he wrote furiously, detailing the list of items and workers that he would need to begin construction until at last he began to draw, transforming their ideas into a work of architectural wonder.

He was nowhere near completion, but for now he would stop. His eyes refused to focus and his hand was cramped. Eric fell onto the bed completely clothed and fell into a deep sleep quicker than he ever had before. For once he did not dream of Christine.


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue**

**A New Beginning**

**Whispers****, Betrayal, & Laughter**

**Madison**

Madison smiled and waved to the young gypsy men who were working the field, harvesting the corn along with the few black farmhands that they employed. She turned back to her father who was escorting her on her walk around the premises, "I'm sorry father, what did you say?"

"I was asking if you had decided which young men suited your fancy. Have you found an agreeable one yet?" Madison looked at him and paused mid step. "No, father," she replied, "I have not."

"What about that young man, James, who lives in the orchard next to us? You and he were good friends when you were young and I am sure that he would be a most agreeable match." Madison looked horror stricken, "oh father, how can you say such a thing? James is my friend, not a potential suitor." He looked at her with a disapproving glance and scolded her "I am quite serious when I tell you that you must choose soon, but it seems like you are ignoring what I say. I will not tolerate disobedience any longer Madison." Madison stopped walking and placed her hand upon his arm, "father, I am not trying to disobey you. But I could not bring myself to look upon my childhood friend as a husband. Please understand."

But her father seemed not to hear her for he was deep in thought. "perhaps the problem is that there are too few young men near us..." he murmured. Madison squeezed his arm in an attempt to regain his attention but he was too focused on his innermost thoughts. She smiled sadly and kissed his cheek, "I am going inside now, do not stay outside too long without your hat," and began walking back to the house.

Along the way she thought of her dilemma. Her father seemed determined to marry her off to the first eligible bachelor who offered. It would be up to her to screen them carefully and chose a man who would be willing to let her lead her own life. While it was true that she did one day want a husband and a family she also did not want to be chained to a man who would attempt to control her every movement and change her core being. She was simply too passionate and modern to settle for a boring country life. _'Marry James,'_ she thought as she shook her head to clear it, _'it is true that he is kind and gentle… but he is like a brother to me. And he is so content to work his father's orchards. He thinks my stories of adventure are whimsy. James would never understand.'_

She entered the house leaving the front door open for any breeze that might stir from the warm late spring's day and climbed the grand staircase. The architect's door, in a guest's room just two rooms down from her own bedchamber, was cracked partially open and she was able to catch a glimpse of the darkened room as she passed. Madison's curiosity stopped her and she inched forward to the doorframe and attempted to peer into the forbidden sanctuary of the strange, masked man. She jumped when a hand grabbed her shoulder from behind. She turned, and with a small amount of dread she laid eyes upon the very man that she had hoped to catch a glimpse of.

Her stomach fluttered and her cheeks burned with embarrassment as he looked at her questioningly. "Is there something that I can help you with, mademoiselle?" he asked condescendingly. "No, monsieur, I was just passing by to my chamber." She could tell by the way that he observed her that he had seem her failed attempt to spy on him. "I would be cautious, things did not end pleasantly for the last little girl who attempted to invade my privacy," he warned her. Madison rolled her shoulders back in response and stood taller to make herself appear stronger, but this also inadvertently thrusting forward her chest.

"I am not a child, and you will speak to me with a more respectful tone of voice," she demanded. He looked her figure over slowly taking her slight but curvy frame into view, his gaze lingering on her bosom just a moment too long before coming back to her face and replied, "no, I suppose you are not a child anymore." He was rewarded with the sudden hard blush that stained her cheeks darker than before. Her hazel eyes filled with golden fury as her spine straightened even more and she stood before him as a wrathful goddess. "Oh, how rude. Perhaps they do not teach proper manners in France."

He grinned and placed a hand on the doorframe, blocking her escape. "Oh, but mademoiselle they teach many more important things than just manners. We French are, to phrase it simply, in touch with all aspects of the world around us. From the basest desires to the sweetest delight." Erik did not think that her blush could darken any further yet it became a scarlet sweep across her cheeks.

"Monsieur, you will hold your tongue," she said without much conviction. Madison turned as if to leave but his hand held fast to the doorframe as he blocked her exit. To push past him would require a great deal of intimate contact.

His response was a hearty chuckle, the dark sensuous sound washing over her and sending a jolt of response to places lower in her abdomen than the butterflies in her stomach. He leaned closer so that he whispered near her ear, " but I do not work for you," he replied. Upon seeing her startled response he removed his hand from the doorframe and pushed past her into his room.

Erik shut the door then leaned against it and closed his eyes. The muffled sound of her escape carried to his sensitive ears. He could hear her on the other side and he reveled in the angry swish of her skirts and the harsh steps of her booted feet as she stormed past his room and into her own. A sad smiled graced his lips as he thought of her and looked down at the faint beginnings of his erection. He adjusted his pants to make room and groaned in frustration. _'What am I doing, teasing her… and myself?'_ he thought. _'No good will come of this. I must finish my work and then leave.'_ And with that he returned to the sketches and the blueprints as he pushed away his desires and focused instead on measurements and keystones.

* * *

Hours passed and still Madison could not push the annoying architect out of her mind. She resolved to not dwell upon him and even attempted cross-stitching a handkerchief as a way of forgetting him. It didn't work. The more that she attempted to avoid thinking of him the more that she remembered the way his eyes had scanned her body, or the darkness of his rumbling laugh. His eyes had sparkled with amusement as he verbally sparred with her, and no matter how many things she tried such as reading, brushing her hair, or even the dreaded task of cross-stitching she could not stop thinking about him. She was angered that he took such satisfaction in teasing her, but most of all he piqued her interest. _'He knows things about the world that I have only read. He has seen places that I will likely never visit,' _she thought forlornly.

Letting out a sigh of frustration she decided to call for Ummi and began getting ready for bed.

* * *

As Madison stepped into the hot, perfumed the bath the knots in her muscles began to relax away. After cleaning her hair and body she rubbed the built up tension from her shoulders and breathed in the orange blossom scented water. A hand trailed down to her breast and kneaded away the soreness that always came just before her cycles. The nipple puckered in response to the steamy heat and the rough handling. Madison leaned her head against the edge of the porcelain tub and reflected on sparkling Amber eyes and a face half hidden in a white leather mask.

Her other hand drifted down her flat stomach under the hot water, until it reached her soft thigh. She closed her eyes and imagined that his large, calloused hands had replaced hers and that he was whispering naughty things to her in that deep, sensuous voice of his. Her hand moved upwards until it landed on her womanhood, her fingers exploring the folds. The water washed away the proof of her arousal but she knew that she had slickened as her sex gorged with blood and throbbed almost painfully.

Madison's left hand rubbed her tender breast, rolling the nipple between her finger and pinching and soothing the hardened bud as her other hand invaded her folds and rubbed the sensitive nub. She imagined him as just a man, and not as the architect who would ruin her life. Madison whispered his name and imagined that he replied with soft words expressing forbidden desires as she rubbed herself and rolled the nub in circles while kneading her breast.

She moaned as she neared completion, throwing her head to the side and squeezing her eyes shut. Her hips bucked as the strange sensation of emptiness and a desire to be filled consumer her. She reached the plateau with a muffled moan as water splashed from the tub and onto the marble floor. She had to stifle a scream as she finally climaxed, her body sank back down into the tub, exhausted both mentally and physically. Finally the tension between her legs had been abated, but she knew that it would return the next time he whispered into her ear, or looked at her with a heated gaze.

**Madison**

The day started out peacefully enough, but it was not to end that way. Two weeks had passed since Madison's embarrassing encounter with Erik; two weeks that were filled with curious glances that stopped when the other noticed, accidental brushings that may not have been so accidental, and an unspoken burning desire that consumed the pair.

Madison was confused. A month ago if Ummi had asked her what she thought of the architect she would have replied that he was egotistical and rude and she wished him to leave. Now she wasn't sure what she would reply. When they sat together to create the blueprints he would on occasion lower his voice so that she was forced to lean closer to him. After the third time in two days she was convinced that he was doing it on purpose.

She was too distracted by the sultry sounds of his voice, which was more sensuous when he spoke softly. Just the sound of his voice or catching his quick glance was enough to make parts of her body come to attention. The constant ebb of hot and cold was driving her slowly mad. He consumed her thoughts.

Little did she know that he was also experiencing the same turmoil.

**Erik**

Madison and the hopes that she created within him had replaced all thoughts and hurts of Christine. He found himself resorting to simple tricks like throwing his voice to distract her and sneak a glance at her luscious, womanly frame, or to soften it when they sat side by side so that she leaned closer and he could smell her perfumed hair.

She awakened a need in him that he never thought he would feel again. It was the need for companionship and possibly for love.

The blueprints were almost finished now, all he needed to add were a few last details and then construction would begin. While he knew that the house would take months to gather the supplies and build it the thought still saddened him. He resigned himself to enjoy his remaining time.

**Madison**

Later that evening Madison was walking from the library where she had chosen a new book to read. It was a thick tome of ancient mythology and when she passed by her father's study she saw that the light was on. She stepped closer to the cracked door to say good night to her father and paused when she heard soft voices deep in conversation.

She wavered, not knowing if she should interrupt or leave quietly and was contemplating this when she recognized the voices; it was her father and the architect, Erik.

Madison crept closer to the door as her need to hear this conversation overpowered her need to respect her father's privacy.

"So it's done and we can move forward now?" Johnathan asked. She moved closer until she could see some of the room and observed Erik as he nodded and added "yes, I finished the designs this morning. It will take two, possibly three, months to complete depending on the weather and the number of men."

A feeling of dread settled in the bottom of Madison's stomach that only deepened as she listened to the rest of the conversation.

"I am glad that it will be finished before the worst of winter. I was beginning to grow worried that it would have to be delayed until next spring," her father said.

"As soon as I find enough competent workers and the needed materials we can begin to level the land and lay the foundation."

Madison could not hold herself still any longer as she turned from the door abruptly and stormed down the hall. The door that had been ajar creaked open and the brush of shoes on hardwood floors betrayed her presence. She hurried down the hall as she dashed the few hot tears that threatened to spill. Her life was changing irrevocably. In just a few short months her life would no longer be the same. The grief tore through her and left nothing but despair and dread.

**Erik**

"Oh dear," Jonathan said with a sigh, "I think I should go after her." He made to move to the door but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"I will need to show her the finished plans anyways. Let me go and speak with her. Perhaps seeing her vision come to life will bring her some small comfort," Erik stated.

Johnathan let out a sigh and sat back in his chair, "she is just like her mother in some ways. Elizabeth died shortly after childbirth, you know. She would have known what to say to our daughter. I'm afraid that I've done the best that I could but I wonder if I've done too much for her. I gave into her every whim. How could I have denied her? She looks so much like my beloved wife. Ah well, go and see if the designs bring her even the smallest amount of joy."

Erik regarded the old man quietly as he rolled up the blueprints and placed them in the cylindrical case. He left the study to the sounds of tinkling glass as Johnathan poured amber liquid from a crystal decanter.

It took Erik a while to find her, and even then he only managed it with the help of a maid. She was outside under the tall oak tree, staring off into the distance with her arms wrapped around her knees. He approached carefully and slowly, as he was wary of startling her.

Madison looked up at him with a look of defeat. She was leaning against the large tree, the forgotten book in her lap. "Please go away," she said softly, "I would like to be alone." When he did not turn and leave she looked at him with sad eyes and the last piece of wariness and fear melted from his heart. She did not look at him with hatred.

He approached her until he was at her side and he lowered himself onto the ground beside her. It was not close enough to touch but also not far away enough that she could forget his presence. He was silent and contemplative as he stared at the ground between them.

Without words he gave her a sign that he was there to listen if she felt the need to talk, but that he would not pry if she wanted to weep privately.

"My father is not a bad man, nor is he cruel," she said quietly. Erik raised his eyes to her face but stayed silent. She continued, "which makes this even worse because I know that he does it out of love. It is hard for him to raise a daughter on his own, especially when I act so ungrateful. But I can't help wishing that I did not need to hide behind a husband or a father in order to be successful in business. I have been balancing the books and keeping our records tidy since I was ten. I know more about this land than the distant cousin who will one day take it from me."

Madison looked at him with eyes that betrayed a certain wisdom and insight that he had not seen in her before. "I can balance an account, add and subtract large figures in my head, keep this plantation running, and so much more. So why do I need to hide behind a man? It is not fair."

Erik contemplated her question and answered it truthfully for anything less would have been perceived as condescending and therefore unwelcome, "because the world is not yet ready for young women such as you."

She turned her gaze back to the book in her lap, the last of her tears rolling down her cheeks. "No," she replied, "it is the men who are not ready; women have waited in the shadows for far too long."

"In that you are most likely correct," he stated, "but would marriage be so horrible an institution to enter?"

This remark caused her to pause and think a moment, "I want to see the world I've read so much about. I want to visit the ruins of ancient Greece, or see the lush rainforests of South America. They say that trees grow as tall as houses and cover the sky in leaves. How am I supposed to experience the world from a marriage bed and then a child bed in North Carolina?"

He looked at her curiously, "you do not want children of your own one day?" he asked.

Erik studied the curve of her face as she turned her head to watch the setting sun sink behind the horizon and said, "I killed my mother when I was born. And while my father did his best to raise me I do not think that he ever completely forgave me for taking her away. He tried very hard to raise me on his own. And Ummi truly is like a mother to me, but it is not the same. I do not think that I could ever do that to a child."

Dumfounded and shocked by her response a little voice whispered a question in the back of his mind. Had he finally found a kindred soul? It was true that Christine had lost her parents but that had never stopped her from dreaming of the perfect family. Madison, however, was consumed by guilt and fear. She yearned for a family just as she spurned it for happiness could be snatched away in an instant in this cold, unfeeling world.

He was unsure of himself at first but he reached a hand out and laid it on her shoulder and when she did not refuse his calming touch the last of Christine's hold on him broke away.

**Madison**

During the next few weeks of the initial building Erik continued to seek out her company. She would turn around and suddenly find him at the other end of the stable, or she would have settled into the cracked leather wingback chair in the library just to look up and see him walking through the doorway.

Her heart squeezed and her stomach flipped at these moments when she saw him watching her. His gaze slid to the unopened book in her lap. It was a slim, leather tome with the word "Candide" embossed in silver leaf on the cover. His eyes widened slightly as his gaze returned to her face.

"That is very heavy reading for a young woman," he said to Madison.

Her expression tightened in irritation, "do you think women incapable of understanding satire, monsieur?" she replied. She could see the look of shock and amusement flash across his face as he raised his hands as if to ward off blows. "On the contrary mademoiselle" he said, "I believe that women are just as capable scholastically as men. I was merely pointing out that most young ladies would not enjoy such a dark piece of fiction and philosophy."

Madison relaxed at this and allowed her hand to stroke the supple spine of the book as she studied him. He had not moved further into the room than the doorway and the light from the lamp cast shadows across his face and the mask.

"I can understand your shock, but I am not like most young women my age. I can see things for their true value rather than what society dictates," she said as her gaze flashed to the white leather mask that he was never seen without.

**Erik**

Erik saw this and was rooted into place from shock. Had she really just suggested what he thought she did? His hand rose nervously to his white linen shirt as he tried to smooth out the wrinkles. It was a habit of his to fidget with his clothing when he was nervous, and Madison's comment had suddenly made him very nervous. 'Don't be such a fool,' he thought to himself, 'you have faced drunken gypsies, angry eunuchs, and an insane sultana, but the thought of a suggestive comment from this slip of a girl is enough to send you into conniptions? Get a hold of yourself you old fool!'

Madison gave him a small smile and asked, "do you enjoy Voltaire's work?" The question brought Erik out of his inner monologue.

He replied, "I do enjoy some of his works, although 'Candide' is by far his best. His portrayal of the Middle East is most accurate and the underlying philosophy is sound."

Her eyebrows rose in wonder, "do you mean that you have been to the Middle East?" she asked in a breathy manner.

He nodded and moved further into the library. "I have traveled to several countries, and I spent many months in Persia. Does travel to Asia interest you?"

Madison's mouth hung open slightly before she returned to her senses and closed it. "I have always wanted to see some of the places and countries that I read about. Would you, if you do not mind of course, tell me about your adventures?"

And with that Erik sat in the chair beside her and began to tell her the more pleasant stories of Persia and the palace that he built. She listened, enraptured with the tale of his time spent designing buildings, of the crowded marketplace, and of the adventures of the spoiled royal cat. She laughed at the stories of mischievous fairies and listened attentively when he told her the tale of the thief who stole the princess' heart.

Erik left out the gruesome details of the twisted Khanum, of the torture devices that he created, and of his narrow escape from the palace. He reveled in the way that her face was lit from within by excitement, and from the knowledge that it was because of him.

**Madison**

Weeks passed and the timid friendship between Erik and Madison blossomed. There were still furtive glances between them and stolen moments where one silently appraised the other quickly. But instead of the tension lessening between them their juxtaposition seemed to heighten it until it was nearly unbearable. Every evening after supper he told her stories from his travels. He described the people and the sights in such detail that if she closed her eyes she was sure that she would see them. His mesmerizing voice filled her thoughts and dreams and she felt the happiest that she had been in years.

In the time that passed quickly as the materials were gathered, the workers hired, and the foundation built, Madison slowly became aware of a longing and an ache that would not leave.

Madison understood a little of what was happening between them. A few stolen kisses when she was young and infatuated with the miller's son along with a few of the books in the library served as her education in the carnal matters of the world. But these feelings of intense desire paired with her anxiety of being found out seemed to make it only that much more delightful.

She saw him as an older and otherworldly man who could teach her things about the world that she could never learn by herself.

The question of the mask was still present in her mind but the months of seeing it had transformed it into just another part of him, like any other article of clothing. It was pushed down into her subconscious mind and forgotten.

It happened one evening when Erik was telling Madison about the sightseeing one could do in Paris that her father interrupted them.

"Ah, there you are Mr. Durmand," her father said to Erik, "I was hoping to have a word with you about the time line for the building phase."

Erik nodded and made to rise from the leather armchair but was waved back into his seat, "no need to move, I only wanted to make sure that the time line you gave me is still correct?" he asked.

She watched as Erik nodded his head in agreement, "yes, barring poor weather the construction should be finished by the end of October or the beginning of November." he replied.

Johnathan Swift smiled enthusiastically and turned his attention to his daughter, "wonderful, I was hoping that that would be the case. I was going to wait until tonight but I might as well tell you now. I have decided that once the house has been constructed and furnished that we should host a ball. We will invite some of the eligible young men from Raleigh and the neighboring towns and you may have your pick."

Madison's jaw dropped in surprise, "father, you can not be serious. That is not how courtship works!"

Her father merely smiled and cocked his head "and since when has my darling rebellious daughter been concerned with convention?" And on that note he turned and exited the library, leaving his dumbfounded daughter with the bemused architect.

Erik could not help himself, between the seriousness of her father and the surprised look on Madison's face he burst out laughing. Madison's surprise turned to mock anger as she threw the small book of poetry that she had been holding at the man beside her, who caught it swiftly.

"So you think that this is funny, the hot summer sun has finally driven my father mad and you are merely laughing!" But she couldn't keep her face straight and she joined his laughter. While his was genuine and deep, hers was laced with a hint of melancholy.


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue.**

**A New Beginning**

**Surprises, Reason & Passion**

**Madison**

Madison was becoming bored. Construction was in full swing as the height of summer began to wane and the project required more and more of Erik's time everyday. Her father was also busy as the harvesting season was nearly complete and the end of September approached quickly. They had had a good crop this year as the new corn breed they'd planted producing a hardier variety that could better withstand the long summers. And her father was too busy overseeing the hired gypsy boys and field hands to entertain her. Once again she was left to her own devices

She sighed and leaned her head against the alcove wall in her bedroom, then scowled as a stay in her corset dug into her ribcage. Madison had opened one of the windows and was enjoying the slight breeze that ruffled her hair and cooled her sweat.

Her thoughts turned to Erik as she allowed herself to daydream._ 'What would it be like to travel to a distant country, to see palaces and marketplaces, to hear the foreign language and learn about another culture,' _she wondered. _'He is so intelligent and worldly.'_

A sharp rap on the door broke her from her reverie. "Come in," Madison called out and smiled as Ummi entered with an armload of clean linen. She looked at the housekeeper and rose to help her put the undergarments and blouses away into the bureau drawers.

"Oh no miss Madison, you don't need to help me, ain't proper," Ummi said. She seemed slightly flustered but despite her protests Madison could see that the woman was pleased.

"Ummi," she said tentatively, "how did you know, when you met husband?"

The housekeeper looked at her sideways, "what do you mean? How I knew we'd end up together?" Madison nodded. "Well, I suppose it was because every time my mother sent me to fetch water for the laundry Abram would be by the water well ready to pump it out for me. Oh, we never spoke," she said with a laugh "and he refused to look me in the eye, but I knew just the same that he was sweet on me." A sad look crossed her features as she remembered her husband.

"Is it very hard for you here Ummi, with all of your memories of being together with him?" Madison asked.

Ummi nodded, moisture filling her eyes as she smiled sadly at the little girl who was growing into a fine young woman. "It was difficult right after he passed, but I just remind myself that I'll see him again one day."

Madison smiled slightly and embraced the woman who had been like a mother to her over the years, and after a moment of shock Ummi returned it. The hug was firm but reassuring and provided comfort to both women.

Ummi stepped back and wiped the damp from her eyes, "now what's all this talk about knowing who 'the one' is, you ain't got someone in mind already do you?"

Madison blushed and looked away but Ummi was relentless and merely cocked one brow, restating the question. "You ain't still thinking about that architect, are you?"

The daughter blushed an even deeper shade of red when she met the housekeeper's questioning gaze. "Oh Ummi, I don't know what I'm thinking!" she exclaimed. "When we talk I forget about the rest of the world like it is only him and me and then everything and everyone else fades into the background. I thought that I hated him, but now, well now I don't know what to think!"

The housekeeper led the flustered girl to sit with her on the edge of the bed, taking her hand and rubbing small circles into the skin of one palm with her thumb. "Do you think that you are falling in love with him?" she asked Madison in a serious tone of voice.

Madison stared into her lap, "I do not know. I barely know the man. I barely know anything about him. He has told me stories of his travels to foreign lands but he hardly speaks about himself. Don't tell father, but when I think about his demand that I choose a husband soon I cannot keep Erik's face from entering my mind. And I know that it is probably absurd."

Ummi nodded her head for Madison to continue but did not break the young woman's speech. "I had thought that I would end up married to a plantioner's son or a man from town, someone who would demand that I play the role of mother and pretty hostess without a thought for my own desires or dreams. And now I know that there are other types of men out there, men who travel and have adventures and believe that women are their equals. I do not think that I could be happily married to some country farmer now that I have an idea of the kind of life that I would miss."

Madison collapsed in upon herself, hanging her head in her hands. Ummi smiled and shook her head, thinking about the tribulations of foolish young love. "I think that you need to talk to him before you make up your mind about anything, an' get some questions answered. That man has secrets and nothing good ever came from hiding like that."

"You mean the mask that he wears?" Madison asked.

"Yes," Ummi replied, "but not just that. Where he comes from, why he came to America; you need to know these answers before you make up your mind. Now I've gotta get back to the laundry or else Lynette is gonna dye the white linen pink with the red drapes in her foolishness."

Madison sat a while lost in thought after Ummi left. But try as she might she could not clear her head from the questions that swam around in her mind. She sighed deeply and rose from her bed, heading to the door. A walk around the property should clear her muddled thoughts.

As she made her way to the field that bordered the Appleton's property she spotted James surveying the edge of the orchard and waved to him. She walked over to where he was standing and returned his smile.

"Going for a walk or coming to see me?" James asked her.

"Just walking to help clear my head."

James studied her serious expression, "anything you want to talk about?" he asked gently.

Madison tilted her head and smiled up at him softly. "Father is still pushing this marriage idea. He's decided now that once that wretched house is finished that we are going to host a ball or some other type of gala for all of Raleigh's bachelor's. I just can not get used to the fact that I will only have a few more weeks of freedom." She looked down, suddenly ashamed that she still resented her father, even if it was only a little.

"Won't you be happy to finally get that house you always wanted? You and I would sit for hours thinking of new impossible rooms and now your dreams are going to come true, it's being built."

Her smile's corners turned down, souring her face, "it is ironic though, I will concede to that, as one dream blooms another withers." She scuffed her heel into the soft ground between trees, "at least it will be a pretty cage."

James looked at her with sympathy and a little exasperation. "So have you given any thought to who you might want to marry?" he asked with a sidelong glance in her direction, not having enough courage to meet her eyes.

Madison's thoughts flickered to Erik and her eyes wandered to the construction site and the towering frame of her house, "no" she replied. But she could not shake the feeling that she was lying to James and to herself.

"I should go, I was supposed to be back ages ago and my father will come looking for me if I don't get back to the house."

The boy next door steeled his nerves and called after her, "I meant what I said, Madison. I'd do right by you." She paused, afraid to move even an inch. She felt torn. The wind carried the sounds of the workers across the field. Erik's deep voice shouted orders and the sound sank through to her very core. "I know," she whispered, "I know, James. I'm sorry." And she turned and left.

Madison waved good-bye solemnly and walked away back up to the plantation house. She did not see James as he turned to catch one more glance at her retreating form.

The next morning's breakfast at the Swift household had been a wonderful affair that morning as Erik joined Madison and her father. This was a rare but not completely unusual occurrence since for the past few weeks he had breakfasted in his room. His hands were stained with ink and his eyes seemed tired.

**Erik**

Madison was enjoying her eggs benedict with thick, smoked bacon as her father tucked into his meal heartily. Erik sipped a glass of juice, afraid to eat before them for fear of the mask getting in the way and embarrassing him.

Conversation waxed and waned as Madison's father inquired about the progress of the house and Erik answered with a glance in her direction. She seemed reserved this morning. It was as if her fiery temper had died down to ashes and she was now resigned to her fate. He didn't like this new Madison one bit.

Before Erik could conclude his observations on Madison's new and strange timidity the door to the dining room was thrown violently open and the neighbor boy, James burst into the room followed by a very frazzled young maid. "I tried to stop him sir, but he pushed right past me," she exclaimed in an upset tone of voice.

Her father calmed the maid, explaining that this was not her fault, and dismissed her from the room. She left warily and with a backward glance at the ill-mannered youth who had shocked her.

"Young man, what is it that could not wait past breakfast?" Mr. Swift asked.

James had the decency to blush, finally aware of just how rude his behavior might have been. Jonathan scolded him in a lighthearted tone and a twinkle in his eye.

"I wanted..." his voice broke and he cleared it, wringing his hands in nervousness, "I wanted to talk to you about negotiating a betrothal contract… between me and Madison… sir."

Erik nearly choked on his juice from the surprise. _'This insolent pup!' _He seethed inside as the old, familiar rage flooded back to him. His hand reflexively twitched to his hip but the Punjab lasso had long been put away. He set the glass down a little harder than necessary and his eyes darted to Madison.

**Madison**

Madison's fork dropped to the china plate in her surprise as her mouth fell open in an un-ladylike manner and she gaped from the surprise. She barely registered the hiss of air as Erik, in the seat beside her, drew a deep breath in shock and held it as his face turned pale.

Her father was the first to speak. "Well, I suppose that that is a topic worth interrupting my meal. Come with me to my study so that we can talk," Jonathan said to the young man as he ushered the boy out with a reassuring hand cupped over his shoulder.

Madison sat in her seat too shocked to move or talk as she blinked furiously, trying to make sense of what had just happened. She turned and saw that Erik's breathing had returned to normal but his face was almost as pale as his white leather half-mask.

When the events of the past few moments finally registered anger surged into Madison's face. "How dare he!" she exclaimed, too frustrated to extrapolate beyond muttering this phrase a few more times under her breath.

**Erik**

Erik turned to her and caught her eye as his knee almost touched hers and he laid his hand upon the table. "A gentleman would have asked the lady first," he said softly as deep hazel eyes turned to meet gold ones.

Her breath hitched and her utterances of 'how dare he' stopped abruptly. Erik held her gaze as his eyes searched her face for a hint of repulsion. Seeing none he continued, "he should have asked you first. By asking your father he shows that he does not respect your ability to make decisions."

Madison sat there mute. She looked at him as if it were for the first time and studied what she could see of his face for a hint of mockery. She must not have found it for her breath hitched and she swallowed hard. His tongue seemed to have swollen into his mouth from dryness and nerves.

He held her gaze and was afraid that if he broke it then this moment would be lost and that she in turn would be lost to him forever, like Christine had been to Raoul. His palms began to sweat and the room suddenly seemed too warm but he would not relinquish his hold upon her gaze.

As seconds passed and she did not try to look away or flee he removed his hand from the table and slowly, so that she could see, he covered her hand with his own.

His body stilled, afraid that if he moved he would startle her and she would run, but he could not suppress his slight jolt as she turned her hand over so that his hand now cupped hers, palm to palm, and as he looked down he saw the delicate and tender expanse of her pale wrist with blue veins pulsing strongly in tracts against her porcelain skin. Her mouth parted gently as her expression softened.

Erik's eyes rose back up to meet hers as the fragile beginnings of hope that had begun weeks ago strengthened. He felt that he could get lost staring into the complex depths of her eyes.

**Madison**

Madison crossed her arms in a defiant stance as she glared at her father. He refused to see reason and she was becoming very cross.

"What do you mean you refuse?" he asked her for the third time.

"I mean what I say father, I will not marry James. He is a friend to me and no more."

Jonathan sputtered in unbelieving outrage, "but you have to, we came to terms, and I gave my word. You cannot ask me to go back on my word," he explained indignantly.

She stared at him as if by willing it she could make him agree with her. Her jaw clinched, squaring off her jaw in a look that signaled that nothing could change her mind. "Did you," she began, "or did you not tell me that I could choose the man that I wanted?"

He blinked a few times, uneasiness settling in his stomach as he realized that he most likely would lose this battle of wills. "I did," he replied, "but why are you so set against James? He seems to be nice enough young man who comes from a good family with above modest means. And he seems handsome enough to please you."

Madison's irritation faded into a look of shocked outrage, "please tell me that you do not think that I am anything like those girls I lived with at finishing school. Do you honestly believe that I would reject a suitor just because he is not handsome enough? I cannot marry James because I want more out of life than he could give me. I want to travel the world, see the cultures and countries that I have read about. He wants a normal life of raising a family and planning next year's crop, and I want to explore the world and have adventure. We will not be compatible."

Johnathan regarded his daughter thoughtfully and said with a sigh said, "I give up, marry whomever you want for I've had enough of dealing with this nonsense. You are sure that you won't reconsider?" Upon seeing her stern expression he turned in his chair to face his desk. " I'll send word to the Applegates then. But mark my word, Madison, you _will_ be married and you will take this ball seriously. But don't you dare think that you can drive off every young man who tries to court you because I won't stand for that. You will choose your suitor by Christmas, or I will choose for you."

He turned back to her noticing that her look of scorn had suddenly become a look of gratefulness and hope. As she kissed his cheek, muttered her goodbyes and left his study he was left to wonder just how much he had spoiled her, and if her stubbornness would be his demise. _'I am getting too old for this nonsense'_ he thought to himself and picked up a fountain pen and a piece of parchment.

**Erik**

Erik was agitated. The builders were very nearly incompetent at translating his design into a solid piece of architecture and required near constant supervision. He had hoped that after a few weeks of building he could trust them enough to leave them alone for a day or two at a time, but now it looked as if he would not be able to get away during the day.

The sun was just now beginning to descend and he had called an end to the workday. Despite a few minor setbacks the house was coming along at a steady, if less than desirable, pace. He began to make his way back up to the plantation house before is eyes fell on the stables.

He paused mid-step and sank back onto his heel. It had been a while since he had visited his horse in the stables, or taken the black Arabian for a long ride. Construction had consumed the majority of his time, and his courtship of Madison the rest. A stray thought intruded on his thoughts, she often visited the stables before the evening meal. He wondered if she might be there at this moment and before he had made a decision to see if she was indeed visiting the horses his body had changed directions and he began to walk towards the stables.

The soft snorting and whickering of the horses captured his attention as he heard a soft voice humming from inside.

Madison was stroking the nose of the stallion that Erik had travelled with and she was humming to him softly. The horse's big brown eyes stared down at her and his long eyelashes blinked away dust. Its soft snort ruffled the strands of hair around her face.

Erik watched her stroke the horse's velvet nose and then hold up another cube of sugar. The stallion turned his attention to her hand as he nibbled the treat from her palm.

"You will spoil him," he said behind her. She gasped and dropped the sugar cube as she spun around until she was facing him. He looked down at the now dirt covered sugar cube before he turned his attention to her with the hint of a playful smile on his face as he said "it looks as if Amin's treat has been ruined, you are such a tease."

Erik enjoyed seeing the blush sweep across her face as Madison's cheeks colored. The corners of her mouth tipped up in an impish smile and he felt the nervous stirrings of hope and lust. He might have believed that she had taken his seemingly innocent comment at face value if not for the secretive smile that she wore. "Amin, that is a very pretty name. Does it mean something?" she asked.

His smile widened, crinkling the skin around the eye that was not covered, "trying to change the subject, are you?" She looked up at him from under her lashes as if trying her best to feign innocence.

She replied, "changing the subject? What do you mean? I merely remarked that your horse has an interesting name." He took a step forward slowly closing the distance until he stood a mere few inches from her. It was an improper distance that would give the servants something to gossip about if they were caught.

Erik looked down at her since his tall frame forced him to bend his head at such a short distance. "I think that you know perfectly well what I am referring to," he said in a deep, soft voice.

Her cheeks burned pink and her lips parted as her breathing hitched. He knew that no matter what she protested she did understand his meaning. In a moment of unplanned boldness she stepped closer to him, narrowing the distance between them until a deep breath caused her chest to brush against his. She looked up at him, craning her head slightly to the side, and her golden waves tumbled around her shoulders baring her neck on one side.

He raised a hand to stroke a strand of her hair. It felt like silk against his slightly calloused fingers. Erik brushed a lock from her face, pushing it behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek.

She closed her eyes for a moment as a small shudder wracked her body.

He misread the tremor for fear and his forehead knotted in tension and dismay. Stepping back from her, he began to apologize, "I am sorry Madison. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."

**Madison**

She looked up at him confused and grabbed his arm before he could turn and flee, "You didn't." Her gaze met his and held it, willing him to believe that she spoke the truth.

His hand rose to touch his mask faintly. The supple leather appeared warm to his touch and she longed to stroke its surface just as she longed to know the truth behind it. He appeared startled when her other hand rose to cover his own, her fingertips touching it. His eyes widened to show the whites like a startled horse. She spoke to him in soft and reassuring tones.

An electric spark ran between them through her hand on his and then she lowered it to grasp the folds of her skirt nervously. "That was the first time that you have called me by my name."

**Erik**

Erik looked at her contemplatively. _'Have I not? Was this truly the first time that I called her by her name? It appears in my mind so frequently. I didn't realize.' _He had said it so many times to himself, thought it so many times, that he could not remember if he had ever said it out loud to her. She made him feel dizzy and out of control, and for the first time in his life he reveled in these feelings instead of fearing them.

"Madison," he repeated, and he drew in a breath as she closed the space between them and laid a hand on his chest. The soft white cotton shirt spread out under her fingers.

"I like the way you say my name," she confessed to him. His eyes searched hers for a hint of doubt.

Erik leaned forward and dipped his face towards hers and he whispered her name against her lips before he kissed her softly. His heart was pounding wildly and he was afraid that at any moment she would rear back angrily or that he would wake from this. Surely this must have been a dream. But when she dropped her skirts and spread her other palm against his chest and leaned he felt like his hear would explode from joy. Madison poured herself into the kiss and pressed her lush mouth against his soft lips more firmly and all doubts flew from his mind. She was real, and willing, and she desired him.

He wrapped a strong arm around her waist and pulled her closer, if it that was possible, until she was molded against his front with her breasts flattened against his broad chest and his other hand tangled in the wild tumble of her hair.

Madison kissed him enthusiastically and slid her hands from his chest to wrap around his neck and hold them closer even still.

**Madison**

She was faintly aware of the white leather mask digging into her cheek but the world could have ended and she would not have cared. Pressing fully against him, her hips lined up with one of his powerful thighs and she trembled at the thought of wrapping herself around him.

A tiny shudder traveled down her spine as her womanhood throbbed in time with her frantic heartbeat. Her palms were sweating and her skin felt as if it was on fire but all she could think about was the feel of his lips on hers and his hand against her waist holding her close as he kissed her passionately.


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue**

**A New Beginning**

**Books & Trouble**

**Madison**

Madison was trying to ignore the feel of Erik's lips on the back of her neck as she reached for a book on the top shelf. She was failing miserably. They were situated in a small alcove of the family library hidden from the view of the door but not the room.

A sigh escaped her as his arms wrapped around her front to rest against her stomach and she nearly forgot about the book that she had been trying to retrieve. She leaned her head back to rest against his shoulder as he trailed warm kisses up the side of her neck. "I thought that you wanted to read before the lunch break ended and you needed to get back to work?" she asked him teasingly.

He replied by pulling her closer and wrapping his hands possessively around her waist. Erik gently bit her earlobe. She gasped in shock but did not pull away. "This is much more entertaining," he replied huskily.

Madison smiled and covered one of his hands with her own. She loved his voice, his soft but deep tone sent shivers down her back as he whispered in her ear. When he told her stories from Persia or France she felt transported to that time and place. When he talked about the Persian palace she could have sworn she smelled the incense. She hung on his every word.

Coming back to reality she turned in his embrace forgetting about the book that she had been attempting to reach and wrapped her arms around his neck. Rising on the tips of her toes she rose to meet his bowed head and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss that deepened with every passing second until she felt that they would melt into one being.

She ignored the feel of his mask against her cheek. The strange sensation barely registered as he ravaged her mouth with kisses. The sound of footsteps passing quickly in the hallway made Erik and Madison break apart.

"I should go, before the workers take my absence as a sign to leave for the day." He trailed a hand down her soft cheek, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. She nodded her understanding and closed her eyes as he placed one last kiss against her lips and left the library. She leaned against the heavy bookcase and clutched a hand to her chest as she attempted to regain her breath and slow her quickly beating heart to a normal pace. His touch, his caress, and his kiss did wicked things to her body. He always left her yearning for more.

Construction was proceeding steadily now that the workers had found their rhythm. The wooden frame was complete and the walls were being erected. Madison knew that this meant that Erik's free time was limited and that their meetings must be held during stolen moments.

* * *

Madison sat on her window seat one evening just after the sun had set in a glorious display of red, gold, and purple. She had opened the glass pane to allow a soft breeze to enter and cool the room. Summer was finally beginning to give way to autumn as the leaves began give way from green to yellow and orange and a cool wind chilled the nights and banished the afternoon heat.

Her thin cotton shift clung to her curvy frame as the beads of sweat that dotted her body began to cool. It pebbled her skin and raised the fine blonde hairs that covered her arms. The change in weather was a pleasant respite that signaled the beginnings of the cooler months. A knock sounded on her bedroom door but when she called out to ask who was there she was met with silence.

She slid off of the window seat she crossed to her bed and retrieved the thick cotton robe that was laid out, wrapping it around her and belting it at the waist. She opened the door to an empty hallway and looked down when she heard a soft thump.

A small red book had been leaned against her door and had fallen when the door was opened. Looking down the hallway and again down the other side her eyes paused on Erik's door. It was shut with no sign that he had exited or entered it recently. Curiosity gained the better of her and she picked up the small, thin book and returned to her room shutting the door behind her.

The cover was slightly worn but still legible. Neat gold font embossed into the cover read _Kamasutram_. She opened the cover and marveled at the intricate gold drawings that bordered the title page. She flipped past the first few pages, found the first chapter, and began to read. It was an interesting and unusual book, detailing the different aspects of romantic love and their ways of expression. The section on kissing made Madison's head spin for she had not known that there were so many ways to kiss or that each kiss had a different meaning.

She marked her page with the attached red ribbon and began to flip through the rest of the pages, taking note of chapter titles and key phrases until she slowly found her way to the middle of the small book to the illustrations.

Madison gasped sucking air into her lungs as her eyes widened in shock and her breath hitched. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think as she took in the first carefully painted drawing. She did not notice the fine detail or the use of colors; she could only stare at the depiction of the half-clothed couple intertwined in each other's named embrace. Her lungs ached and she slowly released her breath as her hands trembled slightly and warmth flooded her cheeks.

She wanted to look away. Madison was embarrassed and confused, but the drawing entranced her. _'Is that man doing what I think that he is doing? Was that really what it looked like?_' she thought. Having grown up in the country she was not completely unaware of the mechanics of intercourse, but she had never seen dogs or horses do what the illustrated man and woman were doing. She turned the book sideways and craned her head and thought, _'is that even possible? How do they retain their balance?'_

Against her will Madison's nipples tightened and pushed against the cotton fabric of her chemise. She turned the page and emitted another gasp as she saw the same illustrated couple in a new position. She shut the book harder than necessary and closed her eyes trying to banish the lewd but captivating drawings from her mind. They seemed to be burned into the backs of her eyelids and refused to fade. She moaned in frustration and raised a hand to her now tender nipple, stroking the pebbled flesh. Her thoughts centered on Erik. Would he caress her like the lover in the drawings, his callused hand rubbing her tender spot as she moaned beneath him?

Did all men look like the illustrated one, that odd appendage stemming from the junction between the thighs? What would it be like, to have another's hand caress her body and bring her to satisfaction; to have him enter and invade her body?

Her breathing quickened as her slim white hand raised the hem of her soft cotton shift and caressed her slick folds. She removed her hand, studying the wetness that clung to her fingers as it gleamed in the glow of her gaslights and candles. An odd but pleasant odor filled her chamber. It was the evidence of her arousal and it clung to her hand just as it permeated her bedchambers.

Madison's thoughts shifted from her private torment back to Erik. _'It had to have been him. No one else would have dared to give a young lady such a provocative book. Did he know how it would affect me? Had it also stirred such emotions in him?'_ She wondered what he would think of her if he knew that illustrations such as these and thoughts of him could drive her to such wanton behavior.

She smiled impishly as she wondered what Madame Trousseau, the head of that wretched finishing school, would think of her now. Thoughts of the stern woman vanished and were replaced by Erik and the illustrations in the book as she flipped it back open and laid down on her bed. She propped it so that one hand held the book open to the pages with the sensual drawings as her other hand crept back under her shift.

She imagined that it was Erik's hand pleasuring her, stroking her, and spreading her as she studied the fine detail of the painted drawings and imagined what if would feel like to have a man's mouth replace his fingers, as the man was doing to his wife in the image.

Fingers rubbed circles around her most sensitive part and she threw her head back against the bed. Her hand drifted lower until her fingers pressed against her core and she was filled once more. She explored herself with a sense of rushed passion as she studied the printed carvings of the book. Her orgasm came quickly in a flood of spasms as her body trembled and a soft moan escaped her lips.

She was left panting on top of the coverlet as the ache subsided leaving only a feeling of intense pleasure shadowed by a longing for something more substantial than two slim fingers. Madison wiped the proof of her arousal against her cotton shift and closed her eyes.

Rising to exchange her soiled shift for fresh nightclothes she stopped at the window and breathed in the clean breeze of night air that cleared away the scent that filled the room. In the distance she saw a figure dressed in white and black with an arm raised to point at one of the builders. She watched as Erik turned to glance at the house as though he could see her from that distance. She wondered if he would be able to tell that his inappropriate gift had stirred such a response.

Shivering against the now chilled air she hugged her robe tighter against her body and retreated to the other side to open her wardrobe.

* * *

The next few days held a slight tension between Erik and Madison. Neither mentioned the little red book that occupied so much of both their thoughts. Their impromptu meetings were growing more heated by the day until Madison was surprised that their clothing often remained intact. She had agreed to meet with him next Sunday afternoon at the edge of the mountain. Stretching the truth she told Ummi that she was going to take one of the mares for some exercise. By the look on the housekeeper's face Madison was not quite sure if she was believed. But the woman did not try to stop her.

Madison met with Erik, who had arrived at the designated spot twenty minutes prior. She dismounted from the side-saddle and slid to the ground in a graceful leap. He took her horse's reins and tied them about a nearby tree branch near his own stallion Amin.

Erik turned and took her hand in his and led her to the blanket that he had spread on the grass under a pretty tree. The sun shone through the fall colored leaves and left dappled patches of shadow on the grass. She sat beside him on the blanket and looked surprised when she saw that his saddlebag was laid within reach. "I brought some food and a book. Utopia is a favorite of yours, is it not?" he asked her with uncertainty. She smiled and nodded to reassure him and curled up against his side once he had settled himself on the picnic blanket. He leaned back against the tree and Madison melted into his side with her legs curled up under her as she rested her head against his the crook of his neck. He began to read to her.

She closed her eyes and let his words wash over her. His rich tenor voice relaxed her and she felt that she could listen to him forever. When he finished reading the first chapter aloud he set the book down and took her hand in his. The pad of his thumb drew small circles against her palm.

Madison looked at him curiously, observing his sudden shyness and vulnerability. She was so used to the strong, confident man who had irritated her. This new, unsure Erik intrigued her. He seemed lost for words as if he wanted to say something but felt unable to form the words. When he turned his face to hers she saw the look of insecurity and apprehension. After a moment he found the words that he needed to say, "I wish that I could change this," he murmured slowly as his unoccupied hand hovered over the masked portion of his face.

He dropped his gaze to the blanket, afraid to see pity in her eyes.

Madison was at a loss for words, knowing that the wrong thing could shatter the hard won link between them. She replied by leaning in and kissing his unmasked cheek. He turned his head to face hers and let his lips meet hers. A small shudder overtook his body and dampness misted his golden eyes.

She gave herself to the kiss, not protesting as he pulled her into his lap and his hands made little circles along her back. Madison tilted her head for a better angle and rested her palms against the broad expanse of his chest feeling the strong muscles beneath his shirt. When the kiss ended she pulled her head back so that their eyes were level, "I do not."

He smiled and pulled her face back down to his and their lips met in a soft and yielding kiss.

* * *

Madison was standing under an apple tree at the border of her father's and the Appleton's property. She was absently rolling a fallen apple under her newly polished black boots while gazing at the newly constructed house.

In the past four weeks the construction had been completed. The walls and floors were installed, the pillars cast and placed, the roof shingled, and now the workers were painting the outside. White with forest green shutters and trim.

Her hand knotted the fabric of her dark blue skirt wrinkling the fabric. Because of the rapidly cooling weather her wardrobe had shifted from breezy cotton blouses and skirts to heavier cottons and silks with long sleeves and lace embellishments at the throat and cuffs.

It was nearly complete. The house needed only to be furnished and wallpapered and then in two weeks time they would host the ball for her to meet all of Raleigh's eligible bachelors. She did not know what to think anymore. Her head swam with thoughts of Erik and of their secret rendezvous and stolen kisses.

He seemed a perfect companion, and thoughts of him brought a light nervousness to her stomach and made her heart beat faster. Her body responded to him in every way, and her mind reveled in his intelligence and worldliness.

But no matter how perfect he seemed to be for her or how enlightened he was she was plagued by the small doubts that gnawed at her constantly.

He was at once a gentle, unsure man and an intimidating, argumentative perfectionist. He confused her. Over the months that they had known one another she had seen many sides of him, but she was still unsure of who he truly was. He had told her countless stories and tales, but when it came to the facts of his personal life or youth he was a miser. She knew very little of his past other than the amusing stories that he spun.

Madison recalled these stories of the great adventures he'd had and of the places that he had traveled and of the people that he had met. But in the weeks of their new relationship she had learned little about him as a man.

If she did not know any better she would think that he was distracting her.

She looked once more at the house and at Erik directing the few builders that were left, and she turned to walk back to her father's house. Passing by the now harvested cornfields she spotted one of the hired workers and waved a friendly hello.

It was Alandro, one of the gypsy boys that her father frequently hired for the harvest season. Now that their work was done the dozen or so boys would return to their camps and families and prepare to move further south for the winter months.

Often she stopped to talk to him or one of his younger brothers when they were done working for the day. Now she stopped to say goodbye to them until next year. He stood at the edge of the field with one hand resting at his side and the other leaning against the reaper that was propped against the ground.

She stopped when she was close to him and looked over his shoulder to his youngest brother Jan who was six years younger to Alandro's twenty two. The older boy's face was tanned from the burning southern sun creating an exotic appeal with his dark brown hair and eyes.

"When are you going this winter?" she asked him while raising one hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the afternoon sun.

He smiled charmingly, revealing a row of straight white teeth as he answered, "We are going further this year, down below Charleston I believe."

Her eyes widened in surprise. It was true that the winters had been harsher these past few years but she had not thought that they would be driven so far south this year. The extra distance would add a month to their journey as two weeks down and two more back up in the spring. This meant less time to work the fields in the harvesting months. They might not even return so far north in the future if they could find good work near the Carolina border.

She wanted to hug him goodbye but restrained herself just barely by reminding herself that it would be too brazen. Her thoughts flickered to Erik and her recent, scandalous behavior and she blushed faintly. Madison never noticed as Alandro's smile widened and his eyes crinkled in true pleasure at her blush as he mistook it as a reaction to his presence.

"We will have one last celebration while we gather supplies and ready for the journey. You should join us, I know that mama would love to meet you."

Madison balked, "oh, that is a lovely gesture but I do not think that I should. But thank you for the offer. I hope that your journey will be a good one this year." She turned to leave but was stopped by his hand on her shoulder.

"With the shifting of the seasons we may begin settling elsewhere for summer work. Every year I ask you to come and celebrate with us, to meet mama and my family yet every year you say no. This year, I insist, she has been begging to finally meet and thank you. Your father has been very kind to us these past five years."

She shifted from foot to foot weighing the choices. It was true that she had known Alandro and his brothers for many years, and she did not want to be rude. But she also knew that her father, who was usually lenient, would forbid it if he knew. It was not that the gypsy boy and his family were bad people. They had been working for her family for years. But they were gypsies, and some of the stories were true.

He saw that she wavered between decisions and released her shoulder while smiling reassuringly.

"Think of it as one last adventure before you are married and have your bambinas," he insisted.

"I promise to think about it," she said, and listened while he gave her directions to their camp. Once she had them memorized she waved goodbye to him and his brothers and began walking back up to the house.

**Erik**

Erik seethed. First that farm boy and now this gypsy scoundrel. He had seen Madison's exchange with the vermin and his blood boiled as the young man dared to lay a hand on what was his.

He clamped his hands into fists for fear of punching the newly painted exterior. From his vantage point up the slight slope he had seen her talking to the field hand. He had seen as the boy touched her and she did not shy away from him. He was not close enough to hear their words, but he saw her perfect lips moving and knew that they were conversing. Erik saw her smile at the scourge and felt a vein throbbing in his forehead.

He closed his eyes in frustration ignoring the looks from the frightened workers as his rage became more and more apparent with every passing moment.

Hot loathing cooled to quiet seething anger as his fears settled in his stomach in a lump of dread that weighed down his soul. Everything had been going wonderfully for one of the first times in his life and now all of his carefully laid plans would be ruined again by yet another foolish boy who thought that he could claim sweet Madison. Finally they parted ways and Erik watched Madison make her way safely to the house. Once she was inside and the gypsy boy had gone over the horizon he unclenched his fists.

With a shout he released the workers from their day's work and barely noticed their quick retreat. He was consumed with his thoughts and inner demons. He barely remembered making the long walk from the new house to the main one, barely remembered climbing the stairs to the second floor, or opening his door and collapsing on his bed.

Erik peeled off the white leather mask reveling in the sensation of cooled air touching hot, sweaty flesh for the first time that day. As the scarred, deformed side of his face cooled so did his anger until the knots of the dread that had settled in his stomach lessened and he was able to think clearly again.

He would need to do something… talk to her… warn her. She was a rational woman and she would understand why she could never speak to that despicable boy again. A plan formed in his mind and the worry smoothed from his brow as his blood pressure settled and the knots in his stomach eased.

**Madison**

Madison balled her hands into fists at her side; it was all she could do to keep from hitting the irritating man. "And what do you mean I can never talk to Alandro again?"

Erik took a calming breath as he attempted to cool his rage. He had tried to explain to her by appealing to her rational nature, but something had gone terribly wrong. "Exactly what I said, you will not talk to him again," he replied.

She stared at him with her mouth dropped open in unladylike speechlessness. Her irritation cooled until it was a calm, dangerous anger that settled inside of her like the eye of a storm. Unfortunately Erik he did not know the subtleties of Madison's moods. When she was yelling or stomping her feet she was upset but not truly angry. But when she was silent and calm but her eyes burned with anger, well that was when you needed to be afraid.

Her eyes narrowed and she folded her arms across her chest as she cocked her head to one side and asked of him icily, "and what makes you think that I have to do what you say… that you can control me?"

**Erik**

He paused a moment and his expression changed from fury to confusion. He sensed that the icy, soft tone of her voice was a dangerous one and he was at a loss of what to do. If it had been Christine she would have cowered at his feet by now, promising to obey so that he would not be upset with her. Madison acted like no woman he had ever known. And not being acquainted with very many he was unsure of how to proceed.

"You have not answered me, Erik," she said, "why should I do as you say? You are not my father, my brother, my husband, or even my fiancée. What right have you to order me about like I am a child?"

He did not like the chill in her voice or the soft, even tone with which she spoke. Her sudden control, he was ashamed to admit, frightened him a little. What could he say, what could he tell her to make her see reason?

**Madison**

Madison eyed him up and down, lips pursed as he stood still, his body ramrod tight and straight. A minute passed between them, and then another. She shook her head and turned to leave the room and spoke over he shoulder, "that is what I thought."

But she was stopped as his hand grabbed her left arm and turned her back to him.

"Let go of me you... you barbaric man!" she yelled at him as his hold on her arm refused to loosen.

"You must listen to reason, Madison…" he began but was interrupted. His tone was pleading but her ire clouded her ears as his hand held her wrist in a tight grip.

"Reason. Hah! You say I must listen to reason. But you haven't given me any reason. You haven't asked me. No, you just demand! Like you have some claim to me because we have kissed. Well I won't be controlled by an insufferable lout!" She jerked her arm from his grasp as she brought her foot down on his instep and crushed her heel into the soft leather of his walking shoes and the arch of his foot.

**Erik**

He yelped in surprise and loosened his grip on her as pain exploded. Erik barely registered her fleeing from the library.

Erik leaned one hand against the wall, focusing on breathing in and out. His teeth were clenched against the pain and his breath hissed through them as he attempted to regain control of himself. "I will not strangle her, I will not strangle her," he repeated under his breath to himself as he tried to calm his rage.

In the distance he heard the slamming of a door, the door to her bedroom most likely, and he groaned. How had he taken the trust that had grown between them for months and ruined it in just a few mere minutes? He groaned in despair and pain.

**Madison**

Madison slammed her bedroom door with a resounding bang as it hit the doorframe and nearly bounced back open before the latch caught. Ummi's head peaked out of the wardrobe as a silk shirt slipped from her weathered hands. "Good heavens child, you nearly scared me to death."

The housekeeper peered at Madison and studied the young woman she took note of her flushed cheeks and the angry twist to her face.

"What's got you in such an uproar?" she asked while picking up the fallen shirt and refolding it, sliding it into the drawer and shutting the cabinet.

Despite her anger tears welled in Madison's eyes as she blinked them away furiously and refused to surrender to them. Instead she focused on the cool rage that seeped into every corner of her soul. "He thinks that he can own me, that I am like some property that he can control. I thought that he was different, that I had found someone who would understand, but he does not understand anything about me!"

Madison sought comfort in Ummi's embrace as comforting arms wrapped around her. She sobbed for just a moment until sobs gave way to deep cleansing breaths. When she was done the housekeeper handed her a clean white handkerchief and patted her hair.

"Ummi," Madison began tentatively, "the gypsy boys invited me to their camp for an end of harvest celebration and I have decided to go tonight. I'll wear the navy blue wool dress.

The housekeeper looked startled and uneasy, "you know that I don't like lying to your father for you miss Madison, it ain't right."

Madison took Ummi's hands in hers and looked at her beseechingly, "The house has been built and is being furnished. My days as a free, happy woman are numbered. I want one last adventure before I accept my fate. Is that too much to ask?"

Ummi shifted from one foot to another, debating these words, "I understand miss, I do, but I don't like lying to your father. It ain't the decent thing to do."

Despite her protests Madison knew that Ummi would eventually agree to aid her, and after a few minutes of debate the housekeeper gave in. Madison smiled, dashed the remnants of her tears away, and kissed the woman's cheek.

"At least take a shawl with you, and a lantern, and don't be too late! I'll cover for you until two hours after sundown, and if you're not back by then I'm telling your father."

Madison smiled and grabbed her thickest wool shawl and wrapped it around her shoulders to ward off the November chill. She made her way quietly to the stables and the little chestnut colored gelding that was hers.

Ummi watched from the bedroom window with a solemn, worried expression.


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue**

**A New Beginning**

**Savior**

**Madison**

Madison giggled and placed a hand to her cheek. The warmth from the fire and the headiness of the wine had made her body flush with heat. She felt like a wanton woman as she sat by the large fire with the gypsies surrounding the crackling logs. They sat or reclined as they told old, familiar stories.

Alandro's mother Mirella told her about his youth and the mischievous things that he had done when he was just a boy. Madison noticed that Alandro appeared to be outraged that his mother was telling her about his embarrassing childhood antics, but Madison could see that he was secretly pleased with the attention.

After she had finished telling Madison about the time that Alandro had tried to dislodge some fruit from a tree and had accidentally knocked down a beehive Mirella announced that it was time for her to retire, as they would begin travelling in the morning.

Madison watched the elder members and the small children of the group head to their homes. The large covered wagons that were stationed in a large circle around the fire were painted bright colors with carved reliefs around the little round-topped doors and the small windows. She smiled as she watched one elderly couple walk to their brightly painted wagon, the husband helping his hunched, arthritic wife up the small, steep stairs.

The clink of the wine bottle hitting her cup brought her gaze back to Alandro, and the clay mug that he was refilling. "Oh no," she protested "I think that I have really had too much wine. Besides I have stayed out much later than I should and I need to head back home." She reached for her oil lantern that was resting beside her and pulled the woolen shawl tighter around her shoulders.

Alandro smiled charmingly as his large brown eyes glowed in the dancing firelight, "just one more glass, it is our best wine for our loveliest guest and it would be a great shame to waste it."

She protested, saying that it was getting too late and Ummi would worry about her, but Alandro merely filled her mug to the brim and began to distract her with stories about what it was like to grow up among the Romani, as she learned was their proper name. He told her about the fairy stories that he'd been told as a babe, and the old folk tales of his people. Madison stared at his handsome face as the firelight cast soft shadows around them.

She listened intensely as he spun colorful tales of less embarrassing parts of his youth, not noticing how quickly her cup emptied and he refilled it.

**Ummi**

Ummi wrung her hands fiercely as she watched the grandfather clock. Three hours had passed since dinner and Ummi had told Mr. Swift that Madison was feeling under the weather and had taken her meal in her room. Now she chastised herself for lying as her mind played out the worst possible scenarios to explain the young woman's absence. She just knew that poor Miss Madison was lying in a field or ditch somewhere, either hurt or dying. And it was going to be all her fault. She wrung her hands and paced the room.

After five more minutes had passed and there was still no sign of Madison's return Ummi gathered her courage and resolved to do something.

She walked quickly to the study where she knew Mr. Swift and that architect were sitting and talking. She knocked on the door and entered. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as a lump lodged in her throat.

Despite her unease she told the two men about what had happened earlier that day, about how Miss Madison had been upset and begged to see the gypsies before they left forever, and how she had let her go against her better judgment, and how she was two hours late.

Mr. Swift was furious at the betrayal, his anger deflating as he thought of his young, naïve daughter out after dark with a band of gypsies. "We must find her, I must go look for her," he said, but was stopped by Erik's hand as it gripped his shoulder.

"I think it would be best if you stayed here, in case she comes back. I will go look for her," Erik said.

Jonathan was about to protest when the warning rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. His face paled even more and his palms began to sweat as thoughts raced through his mind in a confusing flutter. He was an old man, one not up to racing around the countryside especially at night and with a storm fast approaching.

He nodded to Erik, "Go. Hurry! Take whatever you need."

Erik rose from the chair and was led from the room by Ummi to gather the necessary supplies.

Jonathan sank into his chair as a knot of dread clenched his stomach.

**Erik**

Erik spurred his black Arabian on despite the bone chilling cold that seemed to cut through his thick wool cloak and into him with every blast of wind. It was going to rain soon. The smell of the moisture was thick in the air as animals sought shelter and the tree branches rattled from the force of the wind.

He raised his gas lantern higher before him as he carefully led his horse along the rocky and uneven terrain, the slow pace grated on his nerves. But it would do no one any good if Amin falter in a rabbit hole and broke his leg. So Erik resisted the urge to push the horse any faster than a jarring canter.

It was a lucky thing that the moon hung full in the sky because the luminescent orb helped Erik avoid the majority of jutting tree roots and dips in the terrain.

Even though Jonathan had told him where those vile gypsies camped, and his earlier scouting of the surrounding land made him more familiar with the area, he progressed at a slow pace.

His grip tightened on the reins as he neared the camp, he could see the wagons and the haze of a large fire in the distance.

**Madison**

Madison blinked her eyes slowly; they seemed to be getting heavier every passing moment, and she wondered when Alandro's hand had ended up resting on her knee. Her brow furrowed as she brushed his hand from her body, "I am a lady, sir, and you will not lay your hands on me without permission. Besides, it is late and I really must be going now," she slurred and stumbled as she attempted to rise from where she had been sitting.

Her mind felt fuzzy and it seemed to take every bit of concentration that she had in order to not fall over. When the young Romani attempted to pull her back down to sit beside him, ignoring her protestations, she began to pull her hand from his grasp. Fear sank in as she realized how alone they were.

She looked around the campfire, now noticing that the majority of the people had retired to their wagons at some point in the night, and now only a few couples were left. Those who remained paid them no mind. They were too intent on their own companionship to intervene on her behalf.

Her mind mulled over this information as realization slowly dawned on her, the pieces clicking as her eyes widened and she pulled her hand from his grasp. Madison stumbled away from him, a small rock nearly upsetting her balance as she made her way to her horse, not aware of the young man who followed her.

"Madison, it is too late to leave now, you would get lost in the dark, or worse," he said as he grasped her shoulder. She turned to him as he continued to speak "you will leave in the morning, after you have broken your fast. Indeed, I will even escort you to your home before we leave."

He smiled reassuringly and tried to lead her back to the fire, but Madison was wary. The wine had made her terribly sleepy but a small part of her mind jumped in alarm. She could not put a finger on it, but somehow she knew that to spend the night here would be a disastrous bad idea.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the sky lightened in brief flashes as a storm rolled their way and thunder ripped the sky.

"See," he plied her, "it is going to storm. You don't want to travel home in the pouring rain, do you? Come, you can sleep here and in the morning we will take you home."

Lightning flashed, brightening the sky once again, and in a moment that ended so quickly she wasn't sure if it was her imagination or reality, she saw a black figure in the distance.

A few drops of rain fell sprinkling Madison, Alandro, the fire and the couples that still surrounded it. It forced the last of them inside the safety and protection of their wagons. The cold drops of rain pelted her face and seemed to bring her back to reality. She tugged herself free from his grasp and reached for her horse's reins trying to undo the knot that bound him to one of the wagons.

Alandro's friendly façade fell as he grabbed her arm in a bruising grip and pulled her to him. She fought him and was suddenly aware that they were alone and he was going to drag her into the last, empty wagon. The wine dulled her senses and reflexes and she realized that he would quickly overpower her.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked before he placed a hand over her mouth to silence her as he continued to drag her to the now ominous wagon. Thunder boomed around them and drowned out her protests.

"The lady said to let go," a deep voice said from behind the struggling couple.

Alandro stiffened and turned and spotted the dark figure atop a large, black horse. He watched as the man dismounted gracefully, dropped the reins, and stalked towards them.

"I suggest that you do as she says," Erik threatened, "or you will be dealing with me. And I will not prove as easy to rough handle as a young woman." Erik smiled a wicked grin full of dark and painful promises.

"Erik!" she cried out with hopeful eyes.

Alandro turned and pulled Madison before him in a crushing grip until one hand held her body against his and the other grasped her arm. "And why should I let her go? She came here of her own free will, no one forced her, it's obvious that she's merely playing hard to get."

**Erik**

Erik took a step forward until he was within arm's reach of Alandro and Madison. His hand snaked into his vest, pulling out the Punjab lasso that he was now very glad he had stopped to make. The sinister rope dangled from his experienced grip. The threat was subtle, but effective.

The young gypsy boy eyed the rope warily debating in his head if the woman in his grasp was worth the trouble. After a moment of hesitation he released her and while glaring at the bizarrely masked man before him he made the sign to ward off the devil and spat on the ground. "Take her, then," he said angrily, and watched Madison rush to Erik.

Erik studied the young man for a sign that he would assault them, and when the boy retreated into a wagon he put the noose away. Wrapping his arms around Madison her tried to comfort her by rubbing her back as she cried into his shoulder.

More lightning flashed and then thunder rumbled as the drops of rain fell harder and more steadily. Erik lifted Madison up onto his mount, gathered the reins of her horse and tied it to the stallion's before mounting behind her.

With one last glance at the gypsy camp to make sure that they would not be followed or attacked Erik led them out of the circle and away from the garish wagons that had haunted his childhood. He suppressed a shudder as he pulled her tighter against his chest.

His thighs surrounded hers as one of his hands rested on her stomach to steady her. They were silent as she sobbed until finally she was exhausted and leaned back into his embrace. Her back melded to his front and he fought to keep control of himself as she rubbed against him from the horses' trot.

They were heading back to her father's property via the side nearest the small mountain range with the dense forest. The rain fell harder as it pelted them soaking through their clothes until they felt chilled to the bone. Madison tried to blink the rain from her eyes but the water was falling heavily into her eyebrows and lashes.

As the wind blew she shivered. Her shawl was lost somewhere back at the camp, and Erik cursed under his breath. The journey back to her father's home would take too long. The cold was already seeping down into their bones and the storm was quickening every moment. He opened his warm, wool cloak and draped it around both of them. The fabric forced them to sit even closer together until their warmth mingled and took the chill from her body.

Rain slipped under the edge of his mask and ran through his hair and down the scarred side of his face. The thunder and lightning were coming faster as the storm moved closer towards them. They would not make it back to the house before the worst of the storm hit; they would have to seek shelter.

He cursed again and turned the horses into the forest, he knew where they could hide from the storm.

**Jonathan**

Jonathan was frantic. Erik had left an hour ago and there was still no sign of him, his daughter, or the storm abating. He roused the servants and instructed the men to travel to the neighboring farms and orchards to see if they had seen any signs of his daughter, who was surely lost and frightened in the storm.

Ummi wrung her hands in worry, "Oh Mister Swift, I never should have let her go! Oh this is all my fault!"

Jonathan wanted to agree with her. He was eager to blame someone, but he knew that his daughter could talk the nicest person into committing the wickedest of deeds. She was persuasive and strong willed.

"She will be alright, she has to," he said with a sob, "we will have the whole state looking for her if we have to."

A flash of lightning pulled their attention to the window. The storm showed no signs of stopping. He closed his eyes and gave a silent prayer to the heavens praying for his daughter's safe return.

**Madison**

Madison roused from her stupor as Erik lifted her from his horse. She looked around confused and asked "where are we?"

He ignored her for a moment as he led the horses to the back of the cave to the second chamber where a pile of straw lined one wall. It was a lucky for them that he had brought enough straw and hay up here a week ago, along with a few other small necessities. He made sure that the horses had everything that they would need and tied them to a protruding rock so that they would not be able to run in fear from the sounds of the storm. Erik made his way back to the first chamber of the cave where Madison was standing dripping water.

She stumbled a bit and leaned against the wall as she watched him light a gas lantern and gather a few dry logs from his pile of firewood. She blinked her eyes slowly as she slid to the floor and tried to make sense of the past few hours. _'How could I have been so stupid and trusting?' _she thought to herself. A shiver wracked her body as her damp clothes clung to her cold, wet skin.

He looked over at her and cursed again, stoking the fire into a steady blaze that would soon heat the naturally cool cave air. He gestured for her to join him and watched as she stumbled over towards the fire.

She sat next to him in front of the warm flames and watched them dance. Tears trickled down her cheeks mixing with the rain. He reached over to her and wiped the dampness from one cheek, pushing wet strands of hair from her face. "Do not cry, please do not cry, you're safe now," he begged her softly.

Breathing deeply and trying to calm herself Madison started to shake with tremors. Her trembling hands betrayed her emotions. He moved towards her and wrapped her cold, trembling hands in his bringing them to his mouth and kissing each knuckle as he tried to warm them.

"I feel so stupid," she explained, "you tried to warn me but I would not listen." Her brow furrowed and her eyes began to mist again as Erik pulled her into an embrace. After a few minutes of crying she wiped her tears away and settled into his arms, one hand wrapped around his neck as she rested her face in the crook of his shoulder. Her warm breath tickled the fine hairs on his neck and he shifted uncomfortably, suddenly noticing that she was flush against his body and sitting practically in his lap.

She pulled away from him and looked into his eyes, the wine giving her courage. "Please do not be angry with me, Erik, I'm sorry" and before he could reply she leaned in and captured his mouth. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and he wrapped his arms around her waist he pulled her closer and they kissed passionately.

Her mouth opened and her tongue licked his lips and when his opened in surprise she seized the opportunity and explored him. Soon his tongue joined hers as their lips locked together. Awkwardly shifting her legs she moved one to either side on him until she sat fully straddling his lap. She gasped as the proof of his arousal pressed against her thigh and he took the opportunity to explore her mouth deeper with his tongue.

Her eyes glazed over in pleasure as she tangled one hand in his hair and felt the thin wire that held his mask over his face. Madison stroked the back of his neck as he shifted her in his lap and pressed his hardened manhood against the layers of wet cloth that covered the junction between her thighs. It was the only thing separating them.

She moaned into his mouth, spurring him on until he grasped her hips and ground her against him. Madison knew that this wicked pleasure was wrong, that she should stop, and that she was drunk, but it was very hard to care about behaving like a proper young lady when he did such wickedly wonderful things to her body.

He detangled her from him and leaned her down against a blanket that she hadn't noticed they were sitting on. "I will be right back," he told her and watched her nod. She sighed in pained pleasure as she watched him walk to the back of the cave and past the bend in the walkway that led to the second, larger chamber where the horses were being sheltered. Madison turned her attention to the fire and she watched the flames dance and listened to the crackle of the wood as it burned. She loved the way that fires smelled.

Her eyes closed for a moment, and then another as she listened to its crackle.

**Erik**

Erik returned to the first chamber with his arms loaded with thick blankets that he had purchased some time ago in town. He watched her as she lay on the blanketed ground; her face turned to the fire with a slight smile. _'Why have the heavens blessed me with this beautiful angel? And how can I keep her safe from the cruel realities of the world… especially when she does not listen,'_ he thought.

He dropped the blankets by her still form and watched the way that her chest raised and fell with each breath. When she shifted in her sleep her damp skirts rode up her leg and he could see the neat turn of a creamy pale stockinged ankle above her shiny, black leather boot. He had seen bare legs nearly every day while at the opera house, but suddenly the sight of her ankle was enough to keep him distracted.

He knew that the fire's heat could only do so much and that they would need to shed their soaked clothing so that they would not catch cold. If something more came from insuring their good health, then so be it. Who was he to deny fate? And besides, the best cure for chilled skin was friction. He smiled, suddenly nervous, as he approached her.

What he had failed to notice was that her breathing had steadied into a slow pace as she lay before the fire. He called her name softly and when she did not reply he approached her figure. His brow furrowed in anger and dismay. She was asleep; the frustrating, wretched woman was asleep.

He rolled his eyes heavenward and glared. But she would still catch cold if she slept in soaking wet clothes so while being careful to stare at the grey stone wall before him and preserve her modesty he stripped her of her clothing until she was bare and shivering and wrapped her nubile body in a soft, warm blanket.

Wringing the moisture from her hair he laid her down in front of the fire and removed his own soaked clothes, carefully watching her to make sure that she did not wake. He laid their clothes out of reach of stray sparks but near enough to the fire so that they would not be wet come morning.

And when he was bundled up in his own soft blanket he sat beside her, stroked a finger down her delicate cheek, and watched her sleep until the day's activities took their toll on his body and he finally laid down to slumber next to her. One hand draped possessively around her and then he was asleep.


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue**

**A New Beginning**

**Consequences**

**Madison**

Madison floated in a sea of warm tranquility interrupted only by the throbbing in her head. She settled into the blankets that were warm against her smooth, bare skin. The arm around her waist shifted slightly. She flexed her fingers, first one arm and then the other, but the one holding her lay still against her curves.

Consciousness stabbed through the pleasant haze of her awakening, and with the opening of her eyes the dull ache transformed into a splitting pain that made her gasp and clamp her eyes shut.

'_One, two'_, she counted as she looked at her hands, so to whom did the third arm belong to? She shifted as much as she could since her blanket cocoon made the movement awkward and difficult. Finally she had turned on her side enough that she could crane her head to her left without explosions of pain.

It was Erik, swaddled in his own blanket but with one arm under his head and the other draped around her waist. His position had forced the blanket down and she could see his muscled arms and the beginning of his chest. The fine dark hairs lightly coated his skin.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she watched him sleep. Soft whinnies drew her attention from her study of him and she turned her head, looking for the source.

They were in a cave and there were remnants of a fire a few feet from them with clothes laid out beside what was now a pile of ash with a few clumps of unburned blackened fragments of wood.

Her brow wrinkled in confusion, _'where have those clothes come from? And what am I doing sleeping on the floor or a cave with Erik?'_

Her head swam and pounded fiercely as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Despite her confusion she carefully picked his arm off of her and loosened the blankets and upon looking down at herself she discovered the reason why there was a pile of clothing by the fire. She was naked.

He shifted beside her rolling closer to her. Madison panicked and trying to pull her blanket back over her nakedness she found that he was lying on top of one corner trapping it under his weight. She studied his face, which was slack with sleep before turning her attention to her clothes. They were only a few feet from her but it felt like miles.

Should she pull the blanket from his grasp and risk waking him, or quietly retrieve her clothing and dress before he awoke?

Light infiltrated the cave as the pre-dawn brightness erased shadows and began wakening the forest. She could not hesitate any longer; soon the light would wake him and make the decision for her. So Madison carefully withdrew from the soft, warm blanket and rose from the ground, careful to watch Erik for any sign that he was lucid. She quickly crossed to her clothing. Madison picked up the items, her white cotton shift, her corset, skirt, and blouse, and tiptoed her way to the horses.

The chill in the air made her dress quickly, and though the clothing was still a bit damp it would have to do. As she was tying her skirt to her blouse and pulling out the worst of the wrinkles she heard the rustles of fabric and turned around, peeking around the corner to see Erik lying sound asleep by the cooling ashes of the fire.

She turned her attention to the two horses that were whickering softly for attention.

**Erik**

Erik cracked one eye open as Madison shifted beside him in her sleep and he repositioned his hand so that she could not roll away from him. Her movements made the edge of the blanket slide down, revealing one bare, creamy shoulder with a smattering of freckles.

He eyed the graceful curve of her neck and the way that her bones lay under the skin. He watched her as she began to wake, as her breathing quickened and eyes began to flutter as he feigned sleep.

Erik enjoyed the feel of his hand against her smooth stomach. He could feel her through the thickness of the blanket and when she made to rise he was caught up in moment of impulsivity. He shifted by rolling into her and throwing has arm further around her waist not wanting this stolen moment to end.

He was surprised when she rose anyways when she carefully dislodged his hand and wriggled out of her blanket. The piece of wool that he had successfully trapped under himself was trapped under him so that she could not rise and take it with her. He hoped to keep her there for just a moment longer. Erik wanted to sigh when she managed to free herself from the blanket and his grasp as she was crossed to the fire to the pile of their clothes. Risking being caught he cracked one eye open and barely managed to stifle a groan as he was rewarded with the view of her naked backside as she kneeled down to recover her now clothing.

The filtered rays of dawn cast enough light that he could see her outline as she stood. He memorized the curve of her hip and the cleft of her buttock and watched in amazement as she stood. He had not looked at her the night before save to make sure that he had removed all of her wet clothes. She had been incapacitated and to do so would have been a breech of her trust. But he could not force himself to look away that morning.

He watched her as she bent at the waist, reveled in the sight of the round globes of flesh that creased above her smooth thighs. He studied her quickly, noting the curve of her hips and waist and the soft expanse of her back, of the delicate curve of her arm as she grabbed her clothes and pressed them to her front.

He closed his eyes but the images were burned into his memory. From the pallet on the floor he heard her cross to the other chamber for privacy. Risking one more glance he cracked an eye again and watched her retreat around the bend of the cavern's hallway until her naked form was gone from his sight.

He focused on his breathing so that he would not give himself away, but his body betrayed him as his morning erection hardened even more, if that was possible, as his mind replayed the view of her youthful beauty. He piled the blankets around himself so that if she entered it would not be so obvious and he continued to feign sleep.

* * *

They had saddled the horses and eaten a meager breakfast of slightly stale bread and flat water and had begun the process of riding back home. They traveled in silence since both were too embarrassed to speak yet each wanted the terrible silence to be broken.

The sun rose steadily in the sky as they finally crossed over the unmarked border of the Swift property. Madison's headache had subsided to a low throb behind her eyes, which the sun made worse. The only respite she had was to close them and let Erik lead the way.

As her father's house came into view they picked up the pace. The horses were eager to be back in their stables and Madison and Erik both desired a hot bath, a filling meal, and a soft bed.

Erik stretched his shoulders as if trying to remove a kink that had settled into his muscles from sleeping on the rocky ground of the cave and rubbed one hand against the stubble on the bare portion of his face. He turned in his saddle and watched Madison as she dozed on her horse, her body swaying in the saddle.

When they were near enough to the house they both heard the shouts of the servants at their arrival.

The stable master took the reins of the horses and after Madison and Erik had both dismounted, the man led the weary beasts into the stable where they would be groomed and fed. Madison and Erik were rushed inside where their presence was announced to the entire estate. Madison was hugged by many, and led to her bedchamber by Ummi who scolded and soothed her repeatedly.

**Madison**

Madison rested her head against the cool edge of the porcelain bathtub and sighed. She had scrubbed herself pink, cleaned under her nails, and detangled her hair and now she soaked luxuriously in the orange blossom scented water. Her headache, and the accompanying fuzziness from the after affects of the wine, were finally gone and she could think clearly.

The only problem was that she could not remember a good bit of the past day. She remembered riding to the gypsy camps and talking with Alandro's mother, and drinking and laughing, but beyond that her memory was fuzzy at best, and missing pieces at worst.

She closed her eyes and rubbed them, hoping to inspire a vision of the last few hours. She replayed her memory over and over in hopes of sparking something, anything, to explain why she had awakened naked as the day she was born, in a cave, and sleeping next to Erik.

Her hand drifted between her thighs as she explored herself. She had not woken with blood between her thighs, as Ummi had told her would happen when she laid down with her husband on her wedding night. When her hand returned from its explorations it was clean.

She leaned her head back against the rim and sighed. Now if only she could remember what had happened after she had gotten roaring drunk.

The water cooled and she was forced from her enjoyment. Quickly drying off with a soft, fluffy towel she donned a clean chemise and pantalets. Opening the door that joined her bathing chamber to her bedchamber she found Ummi waiting for her with a corset, corset cover, and a dark blue silk dress that was finer than what she wore on a daily basis.

Madison lowered her gaze, too ashamed to meet Ummi's eyes. But the housekeeper merely helped her dress. Perhaps she tightened Madison's corset a little more than usual, but the void of silence was wide between them. The comfortable easiness and familiarity was gone.

Guilt ate at her until Madison forced herself to apologize, something that she did very rarely, and felt much better when Ummi grudgingly hugged her.

"I am truly sorry Ummi, I did not mean to break my word to you." She said beseechingly.

Ummi tsked and replied seriously, "I know that you didn't mean to, child, I know. But you did, and now that you're put back to right your father wants to speak to you in his study."

Madison blanched and nodded. She was dreading the reprimand that she was sure to receive, "how upset is he?" she asked.

Ummi balked, looking at her young charge incredulously, "you still don't understand what you did wrong, do you?" and shook her head, "oh he's mad enough to spit fire, mostly because of how worried he was. We thought you was dead in a ditch somewhere, or worse!"

Madison bit her lip and lowered her head ashamed. She had scared her loved ones to panic _'and now I'm worrying about being scolded? I deserve it, for acting so foolishly,' _she thought.

After Madison was dressed and thoroughly ashamed of herself Ummi led her to the study, partly to comfort her but Madison felt as if it was mostly to make sure that she actually arrived.

When she entered the room her father and Erik were already seated. Tension filled the room so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Madison twisted her fingers into the skirt of her dress. Suddenly she was nervous and apprehensive. She stood before their seated figures and waited for her father to speak first.

A moment passed slowly, and then he said "I hope that you enjoyed yourself for it is the last time that you will leave this house unescorted. Erik here has told me of your foolish escapades, you are very lucky that he arrived in time before the worst had happened. Well, what have you to say for yourself?"

Madison paled even more as the pinpricking of unshed tears tightened her throat. "I do not have any defense, father. I acted foolishly with little thought to what my actions would do to you or Ummi. I am sorry." The pinpricking worsened as her eyes misted. She tilted her head back to stem their flow.

"I am afraid that sorry will just not do… not this time," her father responded.

"What do you mean?" she asked, bewildered.

He studied his daughter a moment, she was so young and naïve, so sheltered from the cruel realities of the world, "your reputation is in tatters."

She gasped but was silenced by a wave of her father's hand. He continued, "we roused the neighbors and the servants so that they might search for you. News of your debacle will no doubt reach Raleigh and all of North Carolina before the week is out. You were gone, all night, un-chaperoned, and inebriated in the presence of unrelated young men. You then spent the entire night in close quarters with a man who was not a relation."

Madison interrupted him, "but father, nothing happened!"

He silenced her with an angry glance, "it does not matter if nothing happened because no one would believe us. Quite frankly, your reputation is ruined. You are very lucky, my dear, that Mr. Durmand here is a man of high character and has decided to do the honorable thing by marrying you."

Madison's eyes widened in surprise as she turned her gaze to Erik, who sat beside her father. His hands grasped the arms of the chair loosely and his face calm yet unreadable. She swallowed the lump in her throat as the tears in her eyes receded along with her feelings of panic. Madison took a calming breath to steady her nerves and slow her suddenly erratic heartbeat.

Her father continued, seeming not to notice Madison's sudden compliableness, "A special license has already been sent for and your engagement will be announced at the ball in two weeks time. Do I make myself clear?"

She looked at her father and took note of the weariness of his frame and the sad look in his eyes. He had truly been frightened for her safety, and she would not make it worse for him. Arguing would do no good; he merely sought to protect the family name and her now tarnished reputation. Her heart leapt at the sudden turn of events. _'How is it possible to be filled with dread one moment, and then suddenly feel something quite the opposite?'_ she thought to herself. "Yes, father, I understand," was her reply.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Erik as a tension that she hadn't seen was released suddenly when his shoulders rounded slightly and his hands relaxed into his lap. She bowed her head and left the room meekly and returned to her room. Ummi would want to know what had just happened, even though Madison did not quite understand it herself.

She had expected dread and horror at her engagement being forced upon her. But instead butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she felt a sudden wash of happiness and surprise come over her. Erik always made her feel this way: unsure and nervous yet excited.

She was lost in her own thoughts, '_perhaps marriage would not be torturous if he is by my side.' _Her body responded to him as if he already knew her secrets, secrets of which she wasn't even fully aware. He was captivating and breathtaking all at once. She loved the way that he became entranced in his drawings and sketches. The act of taking a blank piece of paper, designing a building, and then actually creating that vision out of stone and brick amazed her. She had never seen someone do such a thing in all of her life. _'And his stories,'_ she thought, _'he has lived one hundred lifetimes in just thirty-odd years. Erik has seen more places than I even knew existed.' _She felt heady with excitement as if she was still drunk on mulled wine and sitting by a warm fire on a cold evening.

As she placed her hand on her bedroom doorknob and began to turn it, a scene of a dark figure galloping to her on horseback amidst a raging storm flashed before her. _'Was that a dream or a memory?'_

She glanced back down the hallway towards the study but could see nothing from the distance.

And so she was left wondering exactly what had happened last night, at the camp and then between her and Erik, and why she had awakened naked but untouched.

She shook her head to clear the cobwebs and turned the knob. Ummi was waiting for her.


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue**

**A New Beginning**

**Understanding**

**Madison**

Madison awoke the next morning and lay in bed letting her mind wander. She felt as if she was in a dream. _'I can not believe that my life changed so much in just two days,'_ she thought to herself. Fluffing her pillow she rolled onto her side and stifled a giddy laugh. _'I still feel like it was all a dream… that I'll awake and none of it will have happened. And Erik… he is amazing. The things that he has seen… Persian palaces, Russian ballets, world renowned musicians and curiosities that I can't even wrap my head around.'_ Running fingers through her tangled mass of golden waves another thought struck her, _'he'll tire of me… of this place.'_

She knotted her fingers into the hair at her scalp as the thought terrified her, _'how can a man so experienced possibly find lifelong happiness with a country girl?'_ Madison sat up in bed and threw off her covers. Her toes touched the wooden floorboards and the cold seemed to creep up her legs. _'Would he even have proposed if my actions hadn't forced his hand?'_

As she turned her head her eye caught her reflection in the cheval mirror that stood next to her wardrobe. She saw a wild-eyed country girl with unruly hair and a freckled complexion. _'He is so refined… so sophisticated. He makes even something simple like dipping a quill in ink look elegant. I can't even speak French without my accent mussing up the words.'_

Shaking her head as if to clear the thoughts from it she rose and crossed the room to the wardrobe.

* * *

Madison placed a hand on her too tightly cinched waist, groaned, and twisted her torso to try to relieve the pressure from the piece of boning that was currently digging into her back.

Ever since her debacle Ummi had been a little distant, tightening her corsets tighter with more force than necessary then helping her dress all while remaining silent.

She was currently hiding from Erik and her father by sitting scrunched up in a corner of the hayloft between the barn wall and a bale of dried straw. She was petting one of the calico cats that kept the tool barn free of rodents. They were moving her things into her new household, and Madison could not bear to watch the exchange. The whole thing filled her with a sense of dread and apprehension.

She smiled as the cat purred and arched his back into her hand as his tail wrapped around her wrist.

"You are just a silly little thing, aren't you?" she cooed to the animal, which meowed his response and rubbed his cheek against her knee.

She continued to pet him absentmindedly as her mind drifted off to thoughts of yesterday.

Try as she might she just could not get the past week out of her mind no matter how many hours stretched by turning into days she just could not understand how she had gotten herself into this situation. _'I wish that I could remember the details of that night,' _she thought.

She wondered how she could have been so naïve or have drunk so much that now she could not remember what had happened between them.

The floorboards creaked below her and Madison crawled from her hiding spot to carefully peek over the ledge to see the first floor of the barn. It housed tools and equipment, and of course the hay and straw. But at this time after harvest it was barely used except for storage. Instead the farmhands worked on restocking the supplies before the winter storms would begin in earnest.

There was no reason for anyone else to come here, so Madison let curiosity get the better of her and she craned her head around a small block of straw.

Her hair tumbled free of the loose knot that she had tied it in and obstructed her view. As she shifted her weight to free a hand to push it behind her ears the loft emitted a creak.

It was Erik, of course, and Madison cursed her luck that the one person she could not talk to on today of all days was standing below her, surveying the barn, and looking for her.

The cat, upset at the sudden loss of attention, began to sharpen his claws on her skirt drawing a soft yelp from Madison when little claws caught the skin on her soft thigh.

She screwed her eyes shut, praying that he had not heard her and counted to ten as her heart pounded in her chest. Madison leaned back over the block of hay so that she could see the ground floor below her.

The floor was empty of any human presence, with no sign that he had ever been there at all and she let out the breath that she wasn't aware she had been holding.

Sitting back against the hay she pulled her hair back again running fingers through the tangling locks. She screamed when a hand clamped on her shoulder. The cat jumped onto the nearest block of hay in surprise, his back arched and his tale bristled from fear.

It was Erik looking thoroughly amused at having caught her sulking. His amusement was increasing as he saw the look on her face.

A lesser man would have withered at the sour look, but Erik was merely bemused.

"You move like a ghost, you know. How did you get up here?" she asked, "without me hearing you, I mean."

He settled beside her with one hand resting lightly on her knee. Madison did not push it away. He took it as a sign that whatever she was upset about, it was not with him.

"I am accustomed to moving silently. I was looking for you, everyone was. Your father wishes for you to know that your things have all been moved into your home, and that you should take your supper there tonight," he replied

He watched Madison as her mouth pursed and she glared at the bale of hay in front of her.

"We have not really had the chance to talk, about what happened yesterday… about the engagement…" he said, trailing off in sudden nervousness.

She glanced at him and responded "I am not cross with you, if that is what you are wondering about," she said as she turned her face away from him. Her chin tightened with sudden stubbornness as she continued to stare at the straw in front of her. The cat was no longer sitting atop it having moved on in search of mice.

Erik's hand gripped her knee and his thumb rubbed soothing circles into the fabric of her brown and cream dress.

"I had worried," he admitted, "that you were upset with me. I have put you in the same situation as that the foolish farm boy did. An ordered engagement without speaking to you first…" His eyes searched hers for a hint of his fate.

Madison shook her head, trying to shake away the beginnings of tears. "No," she protested, "I did, by running off to the gypsy camp without any thoughts of the repercussions. So no, I am not mad at you or father for doing the right thing, just at myself for acting like a ninny and tying you to me for the rest of our lives."

**Erik**

Erik's eyes widened, _'surely not, surely she was not upset for my own wellbeing. I can count on the fingers of one hand how many people had truly cared for me, and still have fingers left over.'_

He shifted, brushing his knees against hers and raising his left hand to caress the side of her face and cup her chin.

"After all this time, you still believe my intentions to be insincere," he said in sad wonderment, "silly girl, who wouldn't want to spend eternity with you?"

He raised her chin so that their eyes met and he saw that hers were misting with melancholy tears. Erik laid a gentle kiss on the corner of her perfect mouth.

He watched her as she closed her eyes and her breath hitched. A single tear trickled down her cheek as he moved his mouth to place a kiss on one eyelid, and then the other.

Madison turned into him so that her legs curled up into his lap and filled a niche that neither had known was there. He dipped his head until their foreheads touched. She raised one hand to press warm fingers against his leather of the mask.

A shiver ripped through him as she caressed it wonderingly, her eyes still closed. He half expected her to rip it from his face, as Christine had done, but she only touched it questioningly.

He curled his fingers around hers and gently pulled them away from his mask. He kissed the palm then laid it so that her hand rested in her lap, with his cupping hers.

Her eyes were still closed and though the tear had dried, her chin was a little less stubborn. He stared at her face drinking in the site until she gazed back. And in her hazel orbs he saw himself, reflected, and did not cringe because the beginnings of love accompanied his likeness.

He couldn't believe it, but looking at her he knew that she returned his affection despite his many flaws. _'What have I done to possibly deserve her?'_

"Tonight, after dinner we will talk and clear the air between us, and I will tell you about my past, about the mask, and I will answer any questions that you have."

She nodded, slightly confused but willing to accept that in a few hours time he would explain everything.

He placed a chaste kiss against her soft mouth and left with only one last, longing look over his shoulder as he disappeared down the ladder.

**Madison**

She heard his climb downward through the squeak of the rungs, and smiled because she knew that he could have left silently if he had wished, and she knew that he had done so for her.

* * *

Madison's things were in place. Every shirt and undergarment was neatly folded into cedar drawers, and every dress hung with careful precision. Her toiletry items were put into order on her new vanity table with the little padded chair tucked into it. She stared at her reflection for a moment before she turned her gaze to survey the room.

It had been decorated in warm cream and forest green. The plush rug was patterned with delicate cabbage roses and a fleur de li relief. The curtains were dark green damask and were currently pulled aside to let the setting sun bathe the chamber in golden tones highlighting the dark mahogany furniture.

It was comfortable and a true reflection of her unlike her old room which had been decorated in white and pink and gold. She smiled as she rubbed a hand against the wood of the bedpost, her fingers trailing across the grain feeling the grooves and whorls.

She had seen little of the two story house and had only paused in the hallway that led to her room, the master chamber, to glance at the paneled walls and brass gas lamps, before entering her new bed chamber.

Crossing the room to her vanity she picked up the cream and yellow porcelain pitcher and poured warm water into the matching washbasin. She dipped her fingers and splashed the water on her face and cleaned her hands and nails. A little green washcloth had already been laid out beside the basin, and after drying her face and hands she moved to the window to watch the setting sun.

A knock at the door broke her daydream as Ummi entered. Madison smiled, "I am so glad that you came with me, Ummi, I was a little afraid that you were still too upset with me to agree."

Ummi placed her hands on her hips, "lord, child, like I would ever let you out of my sight again." She tsked and shook her head, "cook wants to know if you'll be taking your supper in the dining room or want a tray sent up."

Madison thought a moment then grimaced, "I do not think that I could stand an empty table."

Ummi nodded understandingly, "I'll have Missy send a tray up in a moment. Mr. Durmand wanted word sent that he will arrive in an hour and wait in the library."

Madison nodded that she had heard and turned her attention back to the view outside the window. The apple orchard was a sight to see in the fall and winter. Lush, red apples dotted the leaves as the line of trees extended for miles in every direction.

The housekeeper turned to leave and with one hand resting on the brass door knob she paused and turned, "Miss Madison," she began hesitantly, "I think you'll be happy with him, like I was with my husband, God bless his soul. For all the temper and mystery, I think he truly cares for you, if you don't mind me saying."

Madison smiled softly at her reflection in the mirror and replied, "I think so too. Thank you, Ummi."

Ummi returned the smile before exiting the room.

Madison sighed as the sun began to sink below the horizon. Its brilliant display of colors would not last long now that it was nearly Winter.

A maid knocked and entered the room, placing the food tray on the side table in the corner she curtseyed and left. Madison moved to the table, pulling out one of the delicately carved chairs and sitting down on a padded chair she pulled the silver cover from the plate smelling the aroma that wafted from the platter.

She ate quickly, delighting in the wonderful food that the new cook had prepared and she sank back into the chair with one hand resting on her full stomach as she sighed contentedly. Perhaps living on her own would not be so detestable with such good food.

Glancing at the small mantle clock it told her that she had twenty minutes before Erik was due to arrive. Madison leisurely sipped her nearly empty glass of cold lemonade, the last of the season, and basked in the comforting colors of the room. It was perfect. Erik had created a warm and cozy environment with vaulted ceilings and a plethora of windows to let in sunlight.

By the time that she looked again at the small clock sixteen minutes had passed. She rose from the small table and covered her empty plate placing her glass on the tray. She began the short trip to her new library, one of the first rooms that she had explored that day.

The maids were busily lighting the rest of the gas lamps as Madison walked down the hallway and staircase and slowly made her way to the library.

When she opened the door, expecting it to be empty, she was startled to see him already there and leaning against one of the bookcase-lined walls.

"Do you like it?" he asked as one of his hands sought hers to bring her in for a quick kiss.

She sighed at the withdrawal of his lips and contented herself with looking up at him, "I do. Or at least, I like what I have seen so far."

He arched his right brow in surprise, "do you mean to tell me that my curious Madison has not yet explored every nook and cranny of her house?"

Madison let go of his hand and looped her arm around his back so that she pressed against him, "do you mean it?"

He grabbed her upper arms loosely, "do I meant what? That you are more curious than a cat? Yes, of course."

She shook her head and smiled, "no, you called me yours. Do you truly mean it?"

His smile turned perplexed, the grin fading into seriousness, "we are engaged to be married, Madison, yet you still are worried that I will vanish into thin air."

She looked away, eyes hooded, "I have always been surrounded by people who remain at a distance. My mother died when I was born, and after her death my father was lost. He did not know how to deal with the screaming infant who was suddenly dependent entirely upon him. As soon as I outgrew governesses I was sent off to boarding school where no one understood me. My closest companion is the servant who raised me, and Ummi is too well-mannered to break the social constraints except every now and then. Even my friend James, the farm boy who you hate so much, I kept at a distance because we want such different things in life."

Her eyes met his and she continued, "to be completely honest I have always felt a little alone, which is most likely why I became so unruly and headstrong, I was too used to relying upon myself that I could not accept the advice of others. They could not understand me, so why should I have listened to them?"

Erik met her gaze without interrupting, allowing her to continue.

"And then you came along and you changed everything, Erik. You talked to me, and more importantly, you listened to what I had to say without writing me off as a silly child with fantastical whims. I think that you have ruined me, Erik, for any other man, and I am so afraid that one day you will leave and I will be alone again, only it will be worse because then I will know what I am missing."

He splayed his hands against her arms, fingers rubbing the flesh, and craned his head down to capture her mouth in a firm, possessive kiss before breaking away.

"Never," he replied, "never will I, could I, leave you for as long as you want me to stay. But you still do not understand, how could you…" he trailed off.

She pulled her arm from holding his back and laid her hands against his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath. "Tell me, then."

He nodded and pulled away from her, moving them to the two leather chairs that sat in an alcove of the library with only a small round table between them.

She gripped the arm of the chair, nails digging slightly into the light brown leather, as he told his story.

"I was born with an affliction to my face, the right half of course, which I cover with the mask. My mother could not stand me, and when she was going to send me away I decided to leave on my own terms, and ran away instead," he began.

Madison uttered only a few words as he related the struggles of his life to her, of the unloving mothers, the torturous living with the gypsies who used and abused him, his escape and travels as a magician to Eastern Europe and Asia. He told her an incomplete version of his time with the Khanum, leaving out his role as executioner or of the torture chambers that he built. He told her of the Daroga and his poor son whom he helped kill as a mercy, and of his narrow escape from Persia. She listened silently.

He explained his move to France, which was the country of his birth, and his renovations of the opera's basement. She gasped and nodded at the correct parts of the story, her hands resting firmly in her lap.

Erik hesitantly told her of Christine, about how he had been drawn to her, taught her to sing, and then had been rejected for the young viscount. He excluded his worst moments, not telling her about the fire from the chandelier, or nearly killing Raoul and the Daroga in his torture chamber; he did not tell her about murdering the innocent Piangi, or the less innocent Josef Bouquet's accidental death.

And when he was done he sank back into the chair. A weight lifted from his chest, as she sat calmly in her own chair and contemplated what he had just revealed to her.

After a moment had passed along with the threat of tears Madison rubbed her eyes and glanced at the grandfather clock that sat in an adjacent alcove. Two hours had passed since he'd begun.

When she returned her gaze to him she noticed that he was waiting for a response. "I can not begin to imagine what you must have felt, Erik, running from people all those years, or having them run from you. I hope that humanity is not so stupidly ignorant for much longer, to run in fear from a simple affliction."

**Erik**

Erik hung his head. He had hoped to avoid this, at least tonight, for telling the story had left him feeling raw, but as much as she tried she still did not truly understand. She still did not comprehend why his life had been so terrible. He would have to show her.

"Madison, if you can stand it I would like to show you my face before I press the matter of our engagement any further."

Her eyes met his unwaveringly as she nodded her agreement. He rose from his chair and pulled her with him so that they were standing together.

He grasped her hands and raised them to his face, his eyes closing, as he led her fingers to the thin wire that held the white molded leather to his face. He couldn't bear to watch her as she did it.

She laid her right palm against the unscarred side of his face as she swallowed the lump in her throat, and with her left hand she peeled the mask from his face.

He heard her intake of breath and felt the cool rush of air against his face, and then a soft brush of trembling fingers.

He clamped his eyes shut even more as she tentatively explored him, feeling the ridges of flesh around his eye and the leathery skin of his cheek.

It was all he could do to stop from sobbing in relief when she did not scream or cry or push him away.

Instead, she studied what others had abhorred. His eyes flew open in surprise as she pulled his head down and laid one soft kiss against the left, untouched side of his face, and then the other, scarred one.

He met her gaze as hope filled his chest until he thought that his heart would burst.

"I see you, Erik," she told him, and silenced his sob of relief with a tender kiss against his mouth.

The mask slipped from her hand and fell with a soft thump to the ground and it was forgotten as he wrapped his arms around her waist deepening the kiss.


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue.**

**A New Beginning**

**Rooms**

**Madison**

Madison gripped the sides of his face, one hand's fingers splayed against the beginnings of the red, raised tissue, as their mouths pressed against each others to convey the depths of their emotions. It was worse than she had imagined, but not so terrible as some of the wounds that the young men had returned with from the war.

She was glad now that she had steeled herself not to flinch, for after the first moment of shock it really was not such a bad sight, merely different than she had expected. She knew instinctively that he would not welcome pity, so she did not offer any.

And if the way that he was now kissing her was any measure of her success, then she had reacted in the best way possible.

Her foot knocked against the forgotten mask as he drew her closer, his hands moved to tangle into her hair until finally they were forced to part from one another for breath.

She leaned her head against his chest for a moment breathing in the scent of him and sighing in contentment before he broke the embrace and wordlessly picked up the mask. He pressed it to his flesh and clipped the wire into place.

"Now what?" she asked quietly, her hands capturing his shirt playfully. Erik smiled before cupping her hands in his and leading her to the door, "now I show you your new home, ma cherie." As they walked down the hallway to the front entryway Madison wondered at the word he had chosen, home instead of house. _'Could this be my new home… with him by my side?'_ Her lips curved into a smile.

At the front corridor he showed her the sitting parlor which was decorated in pale peach and white with little settees and mahogany tables, lush carpets, and one of her watercolor landscapes of a spring meadow hanging on the far wall, opposite the large double paned windows. This room would be bathed in light during the day.

Next was the den, which was set conveniently near the parlor. The walls were dark panels of wood, and the chairs were soft leather wingbacks. The only other furniture was a large green felt toped desk and a cabinet filled with cut crystal decanters and stoppered bottles for brandy and other spirits. Although elegant and beautiful it, like the parlor, it was not very unique. Madison's brow creased slightly.

Erik led her from that room and across the hallway, into the dining room, which was dominated by the large wooden twelve seat table and matching chairs. A brilliant chandelier hung above it, and they barely paused as they made their way through the serving doors and into the kitchen.

A scullery maid who had been scrubbing the last of that dinner's pots quickly finished her task, dried her hands, and scurried from the room. While large it too was not spectacular. Madison's brow creased slightly more as she eyed it.

While she had not made extravagant plans for these mundane but necessary rooms the complete normality of them worried her _'perhaps he did not understand my ideas as well as he let on.'_

She gazed up at him questioningly only to receive a knowing look in return. "Do you wish your guests or servants to know the wonders of your house? It is better if they are kept secret."

She shook her head and some of the tension eased from her. Madison allowed him to grab her hand and pull her inside the cupboard. Shelves lined the walls completely and cans and sacks of ingredients filled them.

The close confines pushed them together, and while Madison loved to kiss and caress him, and to be kissed and caressed in return, she was not in that sort of mood while her house's uniqueness was in question.

He merely smiled, irritatingly and knowingly, and raised her hand, held in his, to one of the shelves. Her brow knitted in confusion as he pressed her index finger against a knot in the grain of the wood and the column of shelves swung open slowly to reveals a dark stone corridor.

She gasped in surprise and looked at him over her shoulder and said playfully, "clever man." The corners of her mouth tipped up in a cheshire grin.

His hands gripped her hips and for a moment she thought that perhaps she was not as out of that mood as she had thought she was, but then he urged her into the dark corridor and followed quickly behind her.

Madison turned, in the sudden pitch-black dark, and reached out for him as he shut the hidden pantry door behind them. "You should have brought a lantern," she teased.

He shook his head, then realized that she would not be able to see it in the dark and voiced his response, "no, you need to learn where to press without any light, so that if you ever need to use it in a hurry you can find it without one."

His reasoning made sense so she allowed him to once again grasp her hand and lead her fingers to the hidden lever. Once she had learned the spots to press he led her up the narrow stone stairs to the top of the passageway.

After showing her the spy hole to make sure that the room was unoccupied he again led her fingers blindly to the hidden mechanism that opened the passageway into her bathing room. They exited through the towel cabinet. Stepping down into the room she gazed around in wonderment that they had traveled from one side of the house to another in a secret passageway.

Madison smiled widely as he demonstrated how to activate the latch that held the cabinet against the wall, swinging it open, and then shutting it again.

Her bathing chamber was her favorite room so far. Instead of a porcelain tub dominating the room there was a bathing pool set into the floor. Silver colored faucets shaped like lion's heads and placed at each corner would fill the small pool with water. In the center there was a statue of a half naked Roman woman holding a deep-sided bowl above her head. She had never seen indoor plumbing such as this. Instead of requiring a maid to boil water and haul it up the stairs there was a draw pull in the ceiling. When she pulled it a stream of boiling water cascaded into the center of the statue's bowl and once full overflowed. Rivulets would run down the statue's body until it filled the pool below. Another pull of the velvet rope would stop the flow.

He led her from her bathing room into her bedchamber and to her door that let out into the upstairs hallway.

She blushed for he had never been in her bedchamber before, and then she chided herself because he had built it and had surely been in the room a hundred times. It felt different this time, however, and she let him lead her from the room without a sound.

Once in the hallway she let him show her the other rooms that she had been too tired and distracted to explore last night. They were the rooms that they had planned together. There was the oval sitting room with the curved doors set in what would have been the corners, and then the solarium that was somehow more window than wall. Large panes of glass lined the exterior wall from floorboard to ceiling. The patterns of the glass panes framed the large stained glass piece that hung in the middle. She smiled as she realized that he had based it off of another of her paintings. The stained glass display was a riot of orange, red, yellow, and pink as it depicted a sunset over the mountain. She turned to look at him as he spoke, "When the sun hits this wall the colors of the stained glass are thrown into the room. It is like being bathed in light itself." She smiled and tried to imagine it.

Out in the small hallway he showed her closets that actually turned out to be more hidden passageways, and then he showed her the small, unfurnished room that could one day be turned into a nursery.

Next he led her to the guest bedchambers. There was a second master suite with its own separate bathing chamber. If there were secrets to this room he did not say. Erik stopped her at the alcove in the main upper level hallway. She noticed another large, lovely landscape in its gilded frame decorated with two gas lamps on the wall beside it. It was her largest painting and it had taken her months to finish it. The scene depicted the border of her father's lands with the Applegate's orchard as rows of colorful apple trees faded into the distance. Madison cast a questioning glance to Erik.

He smiled devilishly at her quirked brow, "there is another hidden passageway here, in the alcove, can you find it?" and chuckled to himself as she explored the walls, twisting the gas lamps and pressing the carved flowers on the picture's frame to no avail.

Her mouth pursed in playful anger as his grin widened and he placed a hand against the edge of the actual painting, and pushed inwards.

It glided backwards soundlessly revolving in the middle of the frame, and revealed the way behind it. She scanned the hallway to ensure that no maids were nearby as he helped her climb up through the painting and then closed it behind them.

This time he did pull the matchbook from his pants pocket and he struck one match to light the gas lantern that lay on a small table by the entryway, left there for just that purpose. Light filled the room as he turned the knob on the lantern adjusting it and then set it down upon the table.

Madison studied the small room that held an equally small bookcase next to a pair of chairs and end table. Against the other wall there was an easel and stool for her to paint on, and a small cabinet for her supplies. There was a large round window that in the day would bathe the room in light, but now allowed only a small glimpse at the night sky's stars.

She turned, tears misting her eyes as she clasped her hands in front of her mouth.

"Do you like it?" he asked nervously, "I built this so that you would have a place to retreat, undisturbed. No more hiding in barn lofts…"

She dropped her hands to reveal a smile and threw her hands around his neck, burying her face into his chest. "I love it," she said into his shirt, "I love everything about the house. Thank you Erik, it is everything and more than I wanted it to be."

He smoothed one hand down her back, marveling in the fact that she was here with him, willingly, even after seeing him unmasked. Life with Madison, he surmised, would be full of surprises.

"I am glad then, but the tour is not done for I have saved the best for last. And tomorrow I will show you the greenhouse once it is light out."

Checking that the hallway was clear through a removable panel in the painting's frame he pushed against the back of the landscape and stepped through it and back into the hallway of the second story floor.

Quietly they made their way down the hall and back staircase past a maid who looked at them curiously, and down to the other end of the first floor antechamber. "The ballroom is the heart of the house," he announced as his hand pushed the latch on the double French doors and they stepped inside.

Madison gasped. It was unbelievable; it was so much better than the mirrored hall of Versailles that she had wanted replicated. The entire room was mirrored, all six sides, and the floor. It was an endless reflection of the ceiling mural. Bright blue sky with puffy clouds of white with sunset highlights, and sweet cherubs made it look like you walked in heaven rather than standing on a mirrored floor.

She twirled, watching her reflection in the walls and smiled broadly. "Oh Erik, it's perfect!"

A hundred Eriks embraced a hundred Madisons as he drew her into his arms and dipped his head towards hers, "I am glad that you are pleased, ma cherie."

She nodded and closed the distance between their mouths showing him the extent of her pleasure by wrapping her arms around his torso.

Their tongues intertwined and explored each other's mouths. His hands dropped from the small of her back to her buttocks grabbing one globe of flesh in each hand and pressing her wriggling frame against his own taut body.

They stayed like that a moment longer before Madison eased back from him and he released his inappropriate hold on her.

"I see that you have been reading my book," he teased her, grinning at her deep blush.

"So it _was_ you who left it," she accused.

His grin widened, "unless you have some other lover leaving you indecent reading material?"

Her blush faded to an attractive pink as she was suddenly serious, "no, only you."

He nodded at her sentiment and repeated it, "only you, Madison, always you."


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue**

**A New Beginning**

**Town**

**Madison**

Madison awoke excited in her new bed and threw the covers from her body. Today they would travel the four hours it took to get to town, which normally would have been an exhausting, daunting thing, but was now exhilarating because Erik would be accompanying her. She was to have a fitting for the gown for their engagement celebration ball.

She made a mental list of the shops that she would need to visit: the seamstress who was finishing the already in progress dress from their correspondence, of course, along with the cobbler and the milliner. She'd need to purchase new gloves as well.

Her hands flew to the hem of her long night shift and pulled the soft material over her head flinging the used garment back onto the bed. She stood naked and slightly shivering in the cool November air, for the night's fire had died away hours ago leaving only faintly glowing ashes.

The hairs on her arms stood up as her nipples pebbled and she crossed to her vanity, pouring warm water from the pitcher that a maid had left for her moments before into her washbasin. Splashing the water on her face and upper torso she used one of the fluffy towels to dry herself.

She opened the wardrobe and donned black wool stockings attaching them to a garter belt, and then she pulled a fresh shift over her head, tucking it into white pantalets that tied over the stockings and ended just below her knees.

The corset was difficult to manage on her own but since the trip would be long and she did not want it tight she slipped it on herself without calling for a maid. Practice had taught her to loosen the stays and hook it around herself, then to hold one crossing of laces while pulling the next until it was tightened down.

She opened a drawer and selected a high-collared white shirtwaist blouse with tiny mother of pearl buttons and Belgian lace cascading down the front, and over her hands. From another drawer she donned a dark blue pleated skirt that hugged her hips before flaring down to the floor.

She smiled at herself in the mirror, smoothing down a wrinkle in the lace, and pulled a bell pull, ringing for a maid to fix her hair.

**Erik**

Erik pulled out his pocket watch for the third time in as many minutes and scowled. _'What is taking her so long? When I agreed to escort her to the city for her appointment with the dressmaker I had not thought that it would become an all-day affair.'_ But with the minute hand creeping up to the tenth hour, he surmised that not only would this trek become an all day event, but that it might also carry over into the next.

And that meant that his surprise would be forced to wait another full day, if not two. He scowled as the second hand ticked on, oblivious of his seething ire, and he shut the silver pocket watch tucking it back into his vest pocket.

He turned in the hallway and began to pace while keeping his eyes on the staircase and when he had turned for the seventh time and was about to begin the walk from the front door to the edge of the stairs he heard a door shut and footsteps shuffling down the carpeted upper hallway.

His hands fidgeted with the edge of his silver wool vest and his crisp white shirt.

She was beautiful with her hair upswept into a graceful, golden woven knot. A few small strands framed her face. The skirt hugged her full hips deliciously, displaying the evidence of her lusciously curved frame as his eyes traveled up from her hips to her narrow waist, to the widening rib cage and her full bosom. She paused at the top of the stairs with one hand resting lazily on the banister as a smile curved her mouth teasingly and she descended one painfully slow step at a time.

His breath hitched, as it always did when he saw her, and he pulled his nervous hands from his pockets suddenly aware that he looked foolish with his mouth hanging open.

"We're going to be late," he said more sternly than he had intended to and winced.

She stopped on the last step, smile narrowing just a bit as her hand gripped the rail, "but surely it was worth it?"

He nodded and extended a hand to her, "of course," he recovered, "you are more beautiful than ever. Shall we go, then?"

She nodded, her smile brightening, and left her hand encased in his as they left the house and climbed into her father's carriage. A maid was waiting inside. She would be the chaperone for their excursion into town, and the woman motioned for Madison to sit beside her on the narrow padded bench.

The carriage started with a small lurch once Madison was seated beside the maid with Erik opposite her, and Robert led the horses down the dirt road to town.

Except for the occasional jerk or bump from a dip in the road the carriage swayed gently as minutes passed the hour mark and the maid drifted to sleep beside Madison.

The sun was nearing its zenith as Madison looked up from the small book that she held before her, to discover that Erik was silently watching her.

She closed the book, one hand holding it against her thigh, and quirked a brow in silent question.

"I love to watch you read, every emotion crosses your features with each turn of the page," he said earnestly.

Madison smiled in response, "I am glad then, for you will have many years to watch me read, Erik." Her smile turned impish as he held a hand out towards her and pulled her to sit beside him leaving one arm around her waist.

"I certainly hope so," he replied as he dropped his hand to her silk clad thigh and tilted her head back into a firm kiss.

Her mouth yielded to his as she wrapped her hands, still clutching the small book, around his neck and shifted so that her leg brushed against his and the distance closed between them.

A flash of memory of a cold night in a dark, fire-lit cave and passionate kisses and caresses crept into her consciousness until she was not sure if she was only now remembering a forgotten event or dream.

She moaned softly as his tongue parted her lips and snaked its way inside her mouth, exploring and tasting as one hand pressed against her back and the other gripped her thigh through her skirt.

He tasted like jam and tea from the morning's breakfast, which delighted Madison as she eagerly explored his mouth. She reveled in the feel of his tongue against hers as his hands kneaded her flesh and an ache awoke inside of her.

**Erik**

When he released her from his grasp he cast a glance towards the still sleeping maid, Madison's chaperone, and smiled wickedly._ 'A protector of my betrothed's innocence, indeed,' _he thought.

Madison sank back against the padded wall of the carriage and sighed as she straightened her blouse and tried to pull out the heaviest of the wrinkles from their journey.

Erik's musings over the frustrating inconvenience of chaperones were broken when Madison asked him a question that he thought she never would, especially not since several days had already passed.

"What happened in the cave, Erik?"

He was startled, it showed in the abrupt neutrality that slid like another mask over the visible portion of his face, and then his eyes narrowed in bemusement as he replied with a straight face, "you mean that you do not remember seducing me, and professing me to be the center of your world?"

Madison's eyes widened in shock until she saw his barely contained amusement, at her expense, then they narrowed in half-false sternness. "Oh you, I did not," she protested and drew back from him, crossing her arms against her chest.

"You did, you said that you would surely die without me, without my touch, I believe those were your exact words."

Her mouth contorted into a moue of chiding consternation, then softened into a sweet smile as his arm crept around her torso and drew her close.

She was stiff in the embrace but then a moment later she melted against him as his hands rubbed over her back. Looking away embarrassed she explained, "I remember bits and pieces with more coming back to me each day, but my memory of that night is still incomplete. I know that we did not… I mean, that I am still… but short of that I am not certain about what we did or said, and I do not like not knowing."

One of his hands drifted up her back to rub circles on her neck. She shivered at the sensation and closed her eyes as he began to knead the top of her back and shoulder.

"You are trying to distract me, and it will not work, Erik," she told him, even as her eyes were closing and her lips parted slightly in contentment.

And when his ministrations would not stop she pulled away from him and turned from him so that she might regain her composure.

**Madison**

She looked out the little window on the side of the carriage wall and counted the trees that they passed, trying to stamp out the desire that seemed so easy to conjure but impossible to banish as long as he kept touching her.

His hand snaked around her waist with his palm pressing against her bellybutton as he pulled her back into his chest. Her arm lifted to lie on the one that wrapped around her waist and as Erik shifted on the padded bench he moved to wrap his arm around her more. He placed a faint kiss at the junction of her neck and shoulder as his arm brushed against the side of her breast.

Small shivers wracked her tingling frame at the faintest of his caresses. She felt the pressure of his touch through the layers of fabric and clothing, and she grasped his arm to hold it in place when he would have moved away. The feel of his strong arm against such a delicate part of her body, even through the layers of cloth, wracked her spin with tingling chills. "What happened that night?" she questioned breathily.

He kissed the side of her neck between words, "we kissed," kiss, "and," kiss, "held each other," kiss, "and I," kiss, "kept you warm," kiss, "and we slept." He punctuated the sentence with a gentle bite on the junction of her neck, his hand moving to roam across her rib cage in lazy loops, fingers barely brushing against the underside of her breasts.

Heat throbbed between Madison's legs in a maddening painful-pleasure, nearly making her forget the dozing maid on the bench before them.

"And after, when you and my father talked without me, what did you speak of?"

Erik grew bolder, moving the hand that had rested on her abdomen up, dangerously up to her full bosom as the other reached forward to rest heavily on her thigh. The way that he was sitting prevented him from pulling her firmly on his lap, which was probably a good thing since he might not be able to resist ravishing her, maid or no maid, if their little foreplay went any further.

"After we returned and alerted the neighbors and servants to cease searching, the question of your, how shall I say, honor, was brought into question. I told the truth, that I had arrived in time to save you, and that nothing illicit had destroyed your virtue, but the damage had already been done. It was your housekeeper, surprisingly, who demanded the betrothal, which seemed to appease your father after a moment of deliberation."

Madison turned in the embrace, his arms around her suddenly slack, to look him in the eyes. "I am truly sorry that I forced you into this situation, Erik, I need you to know that I did not plan for it to happen this way…."

He raised a finger to her lips, silencing her, "do not be, after all, they did not need to argue very much to convince me. I already desired to ask you for your hand."

She looked at him, her mouth curving in a pleasant smile that brightened her face, "you did? Just my hand?" she asked teasingly.

Erik tilted her head to the side and kissed her jaw, "and you body," grazed his mouth along her jaw to her chin, "and your mind," and then the corner of her mouth, "and your lips, especially your lips," and captured her sensuous mouth in a passionate kiss that stole her breath away.

They pulled apart just as the maid stirred slightly from a forceful dip of the carriage wheel in a rut in the road.

Madison slid away from him with a playful smile to the proper distance on the small bench. The maid stirred, sitting up and blinking bleary eyes.

Erik took out the silver pocket watch from his vest pocket; it would be another hour until they reached the city.

* * *

Madison sighed as she sailed into her bedchamber, the Lane room, at the Oakwood Inn in the heart of fashionable and bustling Raleigh. They had arrived only moments before and were ushered up the grand stairs by the lovely hostess, an older woman with a cheerful disposition. Erik would be staying in the room directly beside hers as the hostess explained, and the servants in the staff quarters downstairs on the main floor.

The maid, Sarah, followed along with Robert who was bringing her valises into the room and began working on putting Madison's clothing and toiletries away as soon as all of the baggage was accounted for.

She gravitated to the window that let out to the balcony, opening the pretty French doors and stepping out onto the railed patio. People and carriages were traveling up and down both sides of the street. She noticed an errand boy run past in a hurry as he nearly knocking over a strolling couple, who shot the smudge-faced boy an incredulous look.

She could smell the smoke from household fires, the manure from the passing horses, and the faint smell of sweat and honest work, followed by sweet floral scents from a neighboring garden.

Even as her nose crinkled from the odd mixture of smells, she smiled. She was in the city, with Erik, and a heavy purse burning a hole in her dress pocket.

"Would you like to change your clothing, miss?" Sarah asked, pulling Madison's attention from the busy city street.

"Yes, I think the violet dress will do nicely. And my corset will need to be re-tied."

Sarah nodded and pulled the violet wool dress from the dresser drawer, smoothing out the creases as best she could.

Madison abandoned the balcony, and its view, and after pulling the pretty curtains closed she began to unfasten the tiny row of mother of pearl buttons at her throat.

After she had changed to less wrinkled clothing Madison patted the reticule that was safely tucked away in a pocket and carefully pinned a gray hat onto her hair, mindful of the complicated up-do. Leaving the bedroom she closed her door behind her and turned down the hall to Erik's room. She knocked.

Seconds passed, then minutes as Madison knocked again and tapped her foot in exasperation. She tried the knob but it was locked. Putting her ear to the door she listened for sounds of movement but heard none.

She refused to let his disappearance delay her appointment with the dressmaker so with Sarah trailing after her she glided gracefully down the stairs and out the front door to hail a hack for the short trip to the dressmaker's shop.

They passed rows of slim houses with windowsill flowerpots and tiny side gardens that added color to the red bricks. She made a note of the location of a new and quaint looking bookshop that had novels carefully displayed in the large front window as they made their way to the dress shop.

When they had arrived Madison and Sarah stepped down from the hack and paid the man his fare, with extra if he agreed to wait the hour or so it would take for the fitting. He agreed and the two women entered the small but luxuriously decorated shop.

She was greeted by rows upon rows of bolts of fine fabric. The store had everything from satins and silks to sheer linen and thick soft wool, and a pretty brunette shop girl ushered them in and showed them to the back.

The fitting room was small with only a small stool and a curtain for privacy, which Madison studied as the assistant left to retrieve her dress.

Once the dress had been pulled from its perfumed tissue paper lined box Madison stepped behind the curtain and raised her arms as Sarah swiftly undid the row of black buttons down her back and helped remove and carefully fold her violet day dress.

Sarah picked up the neatly folded half-finished dress and eyed it, "miss, you had best turn back around, we'll need to tighten your corset a bit more."

Madison craned her head to take in the dress and nodded, grapping a hold of a handle on the wall and bracing against the sharp tugs that cinched her waist smaller than she usually tied it.

She let out a shaky breath and nodded, it was tight but not unbearable, and held up her arms as the maid carefully helped her into the dress.

Once the buttons had been buttoned, the hooks hooked, and the ties tied Madison stepped carefully from behind the curtain. The head dress maker smiled warmly at her.

"You have truly outdone yourself, Madame," Madison told the dressmaker as she studied herself in the full-length mirror.

The gown was gold with a tight bodice and a sweetheart neckline with small, delicate cap sleeves made of sheer silk. It hugged her waist into a tiny point and flowed outwards over her hips into a slightly flared trumpet that trailed on the ground. The sash at the face held a small silk rosette that brought attention to her tiny waist.

The front was decorated with a triangular inset of champagne colored silk. It was heavily beaded with filigree designs that mimicked ropes of light and crystal from a chandelier. The design was made in such a way that it formed an hourglass beginning at her bust, tapering at the waist, and then flaring out into the bottom of the skirt. Antique gold drench lace with a scalloped hem lined the edge of the dress.

She looked exquisite with her burnished gold hair, hazel eyes, and the shining, golden dress that hugged her curves and made her feel delicate and powerful at the same time.

Madison smiled fondly, smoothing one hand over the silk fabric and lace, as the dressmaker and her assistant corrected the small bustle and marked the train for hemming.

The modiste looked up at her customer once the last pin had been stuck into place "lovely, just lovely my dear. All eyes will be on you at the ball. You may take the gown off now."

Madison nodded, "when will it be done? The ball is a sennight from tomorrow."

The woman nodded, "you may have it picked up tomorrow evening, it will be finished then. Now, please change and leave the gown on the stool."

She moved behind the curtain and lifted her arms as Sarah undid the row of cloth covered buttons, undid the laces, and carefully removed the gown from her Madison's frame.

After she had dressed they moved to the front of the shop and Madison surveyed the fabric selection while the shop girl rang up the price of the soon to be finished ball gown.

"That will be twelve dollars and twenty-six cents, miss, would you like to pay now or settle your accounts later?"

Madison fetched her reticule from the pocket of her dress and counted out the correct number of bills and coins. "I will settle now, thank you. And I would like to discuss the selection of a new gown, for my wedding, if Madame has the time today."

The shop girl nodded and placed each bill and coin into its proper slot in the brass cash register, and then she excused herself to duck into the backroom just as two fashionably young women, one of whom Madison vaguely remembered from that wretched finishing school, entered the shop.

The bell announced their presence with a chime. Madison smiled politely as they stared at her curiously from behind the bolts of linen.

Madison took the time to wander the small shop, fingering the silks and satins and the almost sheer charmeuse, only looking up at the sounds of stifled laughter, to catch the two young women look away from her abruptly. The muscles in her back tightened and her jaw clenched as she refused to be embarrassed in front of these twittering nitwits. Apparently news of her debacle had indeed made it all the way into town.

"Congratulations are in order, dear," the modiste said as she pushed through the thick curtain that separated the back from the front of the store and moved to stand beside Madison, "I would love to make your wedding dress. Will there… ah… be a rush?"

Madison clasped her hands in the folds of her dress and counted to five, taking a deep breath, or as much as her cinched corset would allow, with each number. She refused to fuel the gossip about her by acting childish and making a scene. She had, after all, gotten herself into this mess in the first place.

She tried to convince herself that it was only natural for the dress maker to ask such a question for a girl whose reputation had been ruined, especially when said girl had spent the night unchaperoned with an unmarried, non-related man.

So she counted to five and unclenched her finger, pasting a strained smile on her face, "no, Madame, there is no need to rush at all. I wondered if you have the latest magazines from France," Her voice was honeyed and light with only the barest hint of anger as she cast a cool glance at the girls, who were trying very hard not to look up from the fabric that they were fingering.

"Very good, Miss Swift," the modiste replied with a smile in her voice, "let us look at some patterns, then."

She followed the dressmaker to the small table and sat on one of the small wooden chairs. Sarah was standing politely behind her, as Madison and the modiste poured over the fashion plates from Paris.

A considerable amount of time later they had agreed upon the pattern, fabric, and trimmings. Madison cast a glance around the shop but the girls were gone and had been replaced by an older woman who was chatting merrily with the shop girl. Madison thanked the modiste for her time and exited the shop.

The hack was waiting and soon Madison and Sarah were tucked away inside the carriage and heading towards the next shop.


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue**

**A New Beginning**

**Apologies**

**Madison**

Madison was glad to be back in her room at the inn. After visiting the seamstress, the glove shop, and a ready to wear clothing shop she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to collapse into a steaming hot bath and relax.

Sarah stored away Madison's packages against the far wall and helped her undress, then excused herself and hurried off to her own room downstairs.

The gas lamps had been lit for hours and they cast the bathing chamber in a warm glow. She crossed the room to check her window, it was locked, and she pulled the curtains together. She moved into the attached, private bathing chamber and turned the knob that ran fresh water into the tub.

She sat on the edge of the white garden tub and trailed a hand in the hot, flowing water. Indoor plumbing like this was a luxury she was rarely afforded at her father's house where maids could pump water from the indoor cistern, but would still have to heat it over a stove. Despite the expansion of pipes into the countryside and the little well on their property her father had never updated the old plantation house.

While the tub was filling she re-entered her temporary bedroom and opened one of the boxes of her new packages. Among the necessary undergarments that she had purchased there was a new night shift. It was a more elegant version of her normal clothing, and it was slightly scandalous.

She fingered the fabric and marveled at the soft silk that was woven loosely until it was nearly transparent. Madison touched the blue silk bow that ran between the holes in the lace at the collar and smiled. Setting it down on the bed she crossed back into her private bathroom, and seeing that the tub was full and hot she turned the knobs closed and began to undress.

With gentle tugs she undid the corset laces at her back and breathed in a sigh of relief, then unclasped the front steel hooks and shrugged her shoulders out of the straps, laying the garment on a small chair. Putting both hands in the waistband of her pantalets she pushed them down and stepped out of it letting it pool at her feet. She sat on the edge of the porcelain tub and unhooked her stockings from her garter belt sliding the silk material down her legs.

She folded them and placed them on top of the corset on the chair. The half shift that came to the bottom of hips was next, along with the garter belt. The air was warm from the bath's steam as she stood naked in the bathing chamber.

Her reflection in the mirror caught her attention, and Madison paused and surveyed her frame. Her waist was small compared to her full hips and large chest and she ran a hand down one breast, stopping to tease the dusty pink nipple, and then the underside of the breast, as Erik had earlier that day. It smoothed down her soft stomach and abdomen to caress her thigh, barely brushing the tuft of hair between her legs and the sensitive skin that it covered.

And as she surveyed her frame and her ivory pale skin she wondered if Erik would like the way she looked; if he would like her large breasts that hung heavy from her chest and her soft stomach.

She shook her head to clear these thoughts from it and pulled the pins from her hair letting her dark gold tresses tumble down her back. Then stepping one foot carefully, and then the other, she sank slowly into the hot water. Once she had cleaned her hair and skin she sank back down into the now cooling water to enjoy the last few minutes of warmth.

In every shop she had been met with whispers that stopped when she turned to find the source, and a few times even outright, malicious laughter with snide looks aimed her way. She had expected to become the talk of the town, but a small bit of her had hoped that news of her debacle would have died away for fresher gossip. Apparently, however, nothing more scandalous as her late night adventure at the gypsy camp had surfaced.

She cringed and tried not to cry even as she felt the prickling sensation that heralded tears and splashed the now cool water on her face. _'If I could go back and stop myself… oh but that's useless, I can not change anything now.'_ Unstopping the drain she rose from the bath and toweled herself dry, patting her damp hair and running fingers through the tangled waves.

Madison turned to retrieve her new night shift and realized that she had left it on the bed. Wrapping the pale blue towel around her nakedness she opened the bathroom door and peeked into her room. It was empty.

With her back to the curtained window she dropped the towel to the floor and pulled the clean shift over her head, smoothing the fabric into place and pulling her long, damp hair from out of the fabric. The silk slid down her curves sensuously.

A slight breeze chilled the water droplets that made the gown cling to her skin and Madison paused, _'I closed that window, didn't I?'_

She padded lightly over to the closed curtains and yanked them aside so that she might lock the window, and upon seeing the dark figure of a tall man standing there she screamed.

A hand shot out of the darkness to cover her mouth while another reached out to grasp her arm.

"Erik!" she scolded once he had let go of her, "what are you doing hiding on my balcony like a thief?"

She placed a hand to her chest to stop the frantic beating of her heart. Startled shouts and running feet pulled her attention from the window, and she pulled the curtains closed to block him from view just as the door to her bedroom banged open.

The hotel owner barreled into the room, a hand holding a candlestick holder raised high as if to beat down any potential threat. The maid whose eyes were wide in fear followed the old woman into the room.

She stepped away from the window to draw their attention away from it as they surveyed the room for an intruder.

"We heard you scream, miss, you alright?" The host asked as she and Sarah scanned the room's corners.

"Oh yes, I am alright. I thought that I had seen a mouse. I am very sorry to have troubled you, everything is fine." With the shock still causing her heart to beat frantically it was easy to pretend that it was only a pest that had startled her.

"Mice… in my hotel… well I never. I'll have the cat brought in at once. Well, if you're alright, then…" she trailed off uncomfortably.

"Yes, I'm fine, it must be gone by now. I'm very sorry to have bothered you, I'll just go to sleep now." She shooed them out her door and leaned her back against it once it had closed. She made sure to lock the door.

Erik pushed the curtains aside and stepped into her room, only to halt as he recognized the look on her face.

"Oh there you are, mouse. How dare you come into my room and frighten me, when you have been gone off doing who knows what all day without any word. You're not the phantom of the opera anymore, you know, you just cannot go skulking around frightening people!" she whispered as loudly as she dared, wishing that she could yell at him for startling her so.

**Erik**

He paused mid step to look at her incredulously. _'This woman, this small golden haired slip of a girl, is scolding me?'_ His lips quirked into the beginnings of a smile that only seemed to make Madison angrier.

"You should not be in my bed chamber to begin with, Erik, this is highly inappropriate," she scolded. Her hands crossed over her chest to preserve what she could of her modesty.

"Forgive me, Madison, I truly did not mean to startle you." His eyes raked her frame approvingly, "you look lovely tonight."

Madison stiffened and uncrossed her arms in defiance, challenging him to stare openly at her. He noticed the way that the thin nightgown clung to her damp breasts and thighs.

He looked his fill at the soft curves of her body and the sheerness of the fabric that let him see the faint outline of dusty nipples and a triangle of hair.

She was blushing faintly, he noticed, but she refused to let him intimidate her into covering herself more.

She whispered in a hushed and silky tone, "does your little breaking and entering serve a purpose, Erik? Is there a reason why you simply could not knock on my door?" she clenched her hands into fists at her side. She seemed t war with herself as if wanting desperately to shield herself from his probing gaze, but she was too stubborn to be the first to give in.

"Would you rather I had knocked on your door, chancing that someone might see me enter your chamber at night? Because if so, I can exit and re-enter properly."

She stomped her bare foot and made a sound of unbelief, "oh, you are incorrigible!" He watched as she pulled her damp hair to one side of her neck and said, "Hmm… I suppose that I could forgive you for giving me such a fright if you were to somehow make up for it." She smiled impishly.

He grinned in reply and moved towards her, around the bed, inch by torturously slow inch until he was standing directly in front of her, "I stayed behind the curtain because I thought that you might be a maid. I wanted to leave this for you." He handed her a box, as small as the palm of her hand with intricate panels of different types of wood with carved roses.

"Oh," she exclaimed as she un-balled her fists to receive it, instantly forgiving him. It was heavy and denser than she had expected. He watched her as she turned it over and around to examine it, "does it open?"

Her brow furrowed when she noticed that there was no latch or any type of lid or hinge that she could find.

"Yes, it opens, but it is a puzzle box and the mechanic can be hard to figure out, unless you know the secret of course."

She looked up from the box to him, "what is the secret then?"

He raised a finger to his lips, and eyes dancing merrily, said, "but it would not be a secret if I told you, would it?"

Her lips smashed together in a firm line of anger, eyes sparkling hotly, "so you broke into my room to give me a puzzle which I obviously have no hope of solving? And just how did you get into my room anyways?"

His smile widened, "I climbed over my balcony into yours, but that is of little consequence now. You have not even tried to solve it."

She set it down on the nightstand behind her and turned back to him, "I've no need of puzzles tonight, Erik, I am not in a pleasant mood."

His hands dropped in disappointment, "I thought that you had forgiven me for scaring you. It really was an accident, Madison."

She sighed and rubbed a temple, pushing her drying hair out of the way, "oh Erik, how can you be so oblivious?"

His brow furrowed in confusion and the beginnings of anger, "you are cross with me, and I do not know why."

She sighed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed one hand rubbing circles on her temple as if trying to ward off the beginning of a headache. "No, I suppose you do not know why. Shall I tell you, then?" His frown deepened at her tone.

She continued, "The fact is, Erik, that you left me alone all day to deal with the people of this wretched town. I have spent all day listening to people mock me, speak in whispered tones as I walk by, talk to one another behind their hands, or cross the street to avoid me. If you'd been beside me I could have tolerated it." Her face screwed up in hurt.

He sank down on the edge of the bed beside her, and covered her free hand with his own, "Madison," he began, but she interrupted him.

"Don't. I'm sorry, I know that you did not mean to leave me to handle their prejudice alone. They just put me in such a terrible mood today with their side-long looks and too-loud whispers." A tear slid down her cheek as she averted her gaze.

He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side so that she had to lay her head against his shoulder. Erik moved his arm down to rub a comforting hand along her side and back. His fingers brushed accidentally against the underside of her breast.

The movement shocked her into remembering that they were sitting on her bed, alone, and she was scantily clad. She jumped from the bed with flushed cheeks and taut nipples, "You should go, Erik, it is late and I just want to go to bed."

He regarded her thoughtfully, and then leaned back on both arms on the bed, "oh, I do not think that you are tired at all," he drawled in a sultry tone.

Madison fidgeted nervously from one foot to the other, "truly, Erik, you should go back to your own bedroom now for I grow tired and my head is beginning to ache."

He straightened up, rising to stand beside her, "Madison," he began in all seriousness, "you must know that I will never force myself upon you, that you may say no to my advances and I will respect your wishes. Even… when we are married."

**Madison**

She swallowed nervously and nodded. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach suddenly as he moved to grasp her hands in his and slowly turned her so that his arms were wrapped around her. He was pushing her against him and as she turned her head she saw them reflected in the mirror.

She closed her eyes as he pressed soft kisses against her neck, his hands on top of hers as he moved them, forcing her to explore her own body. The mask made his ministrations on her neck awkward, so he shifted his attention to her earlobe and alternated sucking and biting it as his tongue trailed across her jaw and his hands forced hers to caress her thighs. Their combined hands grasped under the edge of her nightshift and together they inched the fabric up slowly revealing her naked body.

Madison opened her eyes and watched their reflection as he used her hands to pull the garment over her head and toss it to the floor. She stood trembling from the sudden shock of air against bare skin and the idea that she was letting him see her exposed. Her knees wobbled in nervousness as she arched her back against him.

His hot breath on her neck and ear brought a throbbing to the junction between her legs along with the hint of moisture. She watched their reflection in the mirror and smiled shyly as his eyes devoured the sight of her. When his hands left hers and returned to her body she moaned softly, reveling in the feeling of his slightly callused hands against the sensitive flesh of her thighs, hips, stomach, and breasts.

He cupped the globes of tender flesh, his fingers rolling over her erect nipples eliciting another moan as she closed her eyes and threw her head back onto his shoulder. "You are so beautiful," he told her, and she turned in his embrace. Her hands grabbed and began to pull his shirt free of his trousers. One by one she freed the buttons until his shirt splayed open revealing his toned and muscular chest.

Erik brought his face down to hers and captured her lips in a kiss that was torturously slow as she pushed the shirt from him and reached down lower to undo his trousers.

His hand on hers made her pause, "no Madison, I will not dishonor you, and if I remove my trousers than nothing in the world could stop me from taking you completely."

She paused, confused, "you do not want… but I thought…"

He leaned her back against the bed and climbed up to lay beside her. His hand explored every inch of her from collarbone to her breast, from the smooth skin of her belly to the sharp flare of her hip and supple thighs. His fingers teased her, trailing everywhere but the part that needed him the most. And then his mouth joined the game by capturing one breast as his tongue flicked and swirled deliciously around her nipple.

He spread her and raised one leg then leaned in and nipped at her large breast and its dusty pink nipple. His long fingers trailed up her inner thigh and found her core.

She moaned and closed her eyes, throwing her head back into the pillow as his tongue laved her nipple, his teeth nipping gently now and then, and his fingers rubbed her.

He splayed the folds stopping to massage the aching mound with the heel of his hand, and then he once again inserted two slim fingers into the folds to rub against the center of her pleasure.

She gasped when he made contact with her most sensitive part and her back arched as her eyes squeezed shut against the painful pleasure as he rubbed her center with lazy circles and explored the entrance to her womanhood.

The feel of his finger entering her was almost too much when paired with what he was still doing to her breasts with his mouth. She tried to call out to tell him to stop, that it was too much pleasure, but she could only manage two brief words. She cried out, "oh, Erik," as he inserted another finger into her. She felt the familiar ache begin to tighten within her.

Madison's breathing grew ragged as her hips bucked in time with his deliberations. And when he pressed the heel of his palm into her swollen flesh she moaned again. He withdrew from her and left her an aching mess upon the sheets.

She opened her eyes, puzzled to see him sliding down the bed as he kneeled before her naked body. "Erik? What are you… oh, God…." she cried as she brought a hand up to stifle her moans. His tongue had replaced his fingers. She nearly lost control as he flicked his tongue along the length of her.

She bit down on one knuckle to keep from screaming out in pleasure as he licked a path around her clit and grasped her hips.

The cool mask lay against her inner thigh but the odd sensation only added to the contrast of his warm mouth licking a hot trail around and inside of her.

Her hands grasped the fabric of the bed cover as her head thrashed back into the pillow just as his tongue penetrated her hot core.

She was panting, no longer able to form coherent sentences or thoughts. She was too far gone to worry about screaming and being found out. Madison let go of the blanket to explore her now tender breasts as his tongue and mouth continued their attention to her swollen flesh.

The pleasure was rising, building more and more every second until it stopped precariously, leveling off, and then with one last thrust of the tongue and flick of her clit she came in a rush of delicious spasms. She moaned his name and arched her back as the waves of pleasure rolled down her body in a wash of throbbing release.

She lay there a moment oblivious to the world around her and it took a few minutes before she was able to speak. "Where…" she asked between gasps for air and satisfied moans, "did you learn to do that?"

Erik rose from between her legs to lie against her languid body. His erection was evident as he held her legs splayed and rubbed his manhood against her mound. He wanted more than anything to rip off his trousers and take her, bringing her to paradise a second time, but he knew that that would be too much, too fast for her. So instead he allowed himself to rub himself against her sensitized mound.

She did not seem to mind, but at this moment he would not have cared even if she did; he needed release.

"From that wicked little book I gave you. Did you read it?"

She nodded guiltily and watched him as he rubbed himself against her, "Erik…" she began but trailed off nervously.

He opened his eyes, "I'm sorry, ma cherie, but if I do not finish soon then I do not think that I will be able to keep my promises."

She shook her head, "no, that isn't it. One of the chapters described… um… a woman taking a man into her mouth, like you did to me. I was curious… if you would like to try it?"

He stared at her, barely registering what she had asked, but managed to nod and stare at her dumbfoundedly as she rose from the bed to kneel on the floor in front of him.

Her eyes held his as her small hands fluttered to the clasp at the front of his trousers. She popped the buttons free and slid the pants down his hips. Her hands grazed the smooth flesh of his buttocks as she undressed him.

Erik leaned forward to capture her mouth in a kiss as her hand explored his stomach and thighs and gently made its way to his organ.

**Erik**

He groaned into her mouth suddenly aware that she was touching him, that this was not a dream and that she was touching him in a place that no one else ever had. It was everything he had hoped for, and nothing that he had expected.

And then she was pushing his chest and maneuvering him down onto the bed. He watched as she pulled the trousers free of his legs and tossed them on the ground then knelt above him.

Her gaze raked over his form as he reached out to cup her breasts. He held perfectly still as her hands moved over his groin, her small fingers wrapping around his member.

She looked down at him as her hands pulled his skin back to reveal the tip of him with a pearl of milky fluid beading at the center.

Madison stroked him, reveling in the feel of silky smooth, pale skin that hardened under her grasp.

He shuddered and leaned up on both elbows to watch her as she lowered her head to flick her tongue against the tip of him, tasting him as she rubbed her little hands up and down his length.

His hips bucked wildly and he tried to control his movements as she slowly swirled her tongue around his tip. It was driving him mad. He was already half gone in pleasure when she firmly grasped his base and slid him into her mouth, her firm tongue licking along his underside.

She looked at him for guidance, unsure of what to do now that he was in her mouth.

"Move your hand along the shaft," he moaned. And when she did he threw his head back in rapture, his moans guiding her as she wrapped her slim fingers around the width of him and pumped it up and down as her tongue swirled around his tip.

After the first few moments of unsure timidity she slid him further into her mouth and with lips locked around his member she rubbed the base of his shaft with her hand.

Erik moaned and tried to still his thrusting hips as she flung her hair out of the way. The soft golden tresses landed on his stomach. He grasped a lock of hair and stroked it as she flicked her tongue against his length.

He became more frantic as her ministrations continued and her tongue licked along his underside. Madison's hand rubbed up and down, and he was brought to the precipice until her mouth sank halfway down his length at the same time as her tongue circled him. He soared over the edge and his hips bucked wildly until he was forced into her as far as she allowed.

Erik leaned up once again on his forearms and watched as she tested and swallowed the fluid, then licked him clean.

He pulled her up to him and together they crawled under the covers. She settled into the crook of his arm and he felt content with holding her. Resting his chin atop her head he stroked her back and ran his fingers through her hair. Minutes passed that felt like hours. Placing a kiss to the top of her head he murmured his confession, "Madison, I love you."

But she was already asleep, a faint smile on her face, as she sank into his embrace.


	15. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Please see the prologue**

**A New Beginning**

**Rumors**

**Madison**

Madison stretched lazily as she awoke in her rented bed at the Oakwood Inn, her eyes fluttering open as sunlight streamed in a narrow line into her room from a crack in the thick curtains.

She rolled over to place a hand on the side of the bed that Erik had slept on, which was now cold from his absence. Only the rumpled sheets indicated that he had truly been there at all; that last night had actually happened and was not simply another tormenting dream.

A pretty blush stained her cheeks as she remembered the events and the way that his eyes had devoured the sight of her body, the way that his hands had caressed her, and how they had received and given pleasure. Her hands fluttered to her lips as she bit one corner and thought back to the brazen, unladylike things that she had done.

She smiled, her face showing no hint of remorse, and pushed the covers aside to spring from the bed and get ready for the busy day ahead of them. Dressing quickly she exchanged her silk nightshift for a fresh cotton one and rang for her maid. Sarah answered at once and proceeded to help Madison dress in a simple yet refined dark green velvet walking dress paired with soft brown kid gloves and a matching brown and green satin bonnet.

Madison sat at the vanity while Sarah kept her mind busy with the latest city gossip and pulled her hair up into an elegant twist with gold tipped hairpins. Her hand drifted to finger one corner of the puzzle box that Erik had left for her.

"That's a pretty box, miss," Sarah said.

Madison looked up into the maid's reflection in the little oval mirror and replied, "hmm? Oh, thank you. Yes, it's lovely. It was a gift from Erik."

The maid tucked one last pin painfully into place and craned her head to look at the box in question more thoroughly, "Does it open? I don't see a hinge."

Madison nodded and picked up the infuriating little wooden box that Erik had left for her, fingers tracing the delicate carvings. "Yes," she answered, "He gave it to me yesterday, but would not tell me how to open it. Some difficult trick or mechanism, I assume, since I can find no hinge or seam."

The pretty, dark-skinned maid smiled sympathetically and smoothed the last of Madison's fine hairs into place and pronounced the up-do complete.

She replaced the puzzle box carefully on the vanity table and rose to gather her reticule, and together the two women made their way to breakfast.

Erik was already seated at the grand dining table with one hand stirring the spoon sitting in his teacup. He leaned lazily into the back of his chair and appeared the most relaxed that she had ever seen him. When Madison sat opposite him he straightened in his chair a bit and cast a furtive look her way.

Head bowed Madison busied herself by spooning blackberry jam onto a piece of toast, and warm eggs onto her plate from the covered platters in the middle of the table. She looked up through her lashes at him and smiled.

Suddenly Erik became very absorbed in his tea as he lowered his gaze to watch the cooling liquid dissolve the sugar cube in the bottom of the cup.

Her smile widened even as a slight blush painted her cheeks. The man who had boldly undressed, touched, and pleasured her last night, was sitting across from her embarrassed. It felt wonderful, for all of the times that he had angered or inflamed her on purpose only to leave her irritated or aroused. _'Let him have a taste of his own medicine, then,' _she thought as she reveled in the pleasure of being the teaser instead of the victim.

She made a show of eating her jam-slathered bread, licking her fingers suggestively when a bit of the blackberry preserves had smeared onto them.

Erik sat ramrod still, the teacup forgotten, as he schooled his face into a carefully neutral expression. The only thing that betrayed him was the slight flaring of his nostrils.

Her smirk faded as the other guests of the inn joined them for breakfast, a middle aged couple, and a well-dressed young man.

Erik's eyes met hers across the table, promising payback. Madison grinned and took a bite of her eggs, chewing thoughtfully.

The meal was a pleasant affair as the elderly couple pulled the young bachelor into polite conversation as they talked about the fair weather. It was a chilly day with a slight wind but the sun was shining. The little hotel's garden gave off a sweet perfume from the hardy rose bushes that dotted the side of the building. Erik and Madison spent the meal sitting quietly across from one another, stealing sly glances between bites of egg and toast and sips of tea.

Once breakfast was eaten and servants had come to take the plates away Erik stood from his chair and came around the table slowly, extending one arm to help Madison rise. And as she looped her arm through his they walked outside, with Sarah following one step behind them, to call for a hack.

Their first destination was a cobbler, which resulted in a new pair of shiny black ankle boots, and three pairs of evening shoes in gold, dark blue, and silver with small heels. Each had extensive detailing with lace and glass crystals in different, unique patterns. Erik stood patiently at her side as she chose her selections. An hour later they were tucked back into the cab with the boxes holding her purchases put discretely under the seat. Then they were off to the other end of the little row of shops to the milliner.

Two hours and two satin bonnets later they sent Sarah back to the inn, and arm in arm they began the short walk to the little café on the corner near their hotel.

Passing men and women cast curious glances their way, whether to catch a glimpse of the masked man or the scandalous woman, Madison did not know. As they entered the charming restaurant and were shown to their table all eyes turned to them and conversations hushed.

Erik pulled the chair out for her, pushing her to the table, then took his own across from her. As the waiter brought their menus and filled their water glasses the interrupted conversations were replaced with low whispers and a few rude giggles. Erik and Madison ignored the obviously gossiping luncheoners to peruse the menu and chat about the selection.

Madison caught Erik's gaze after they had ordered, roast quail with seasoned potatoes and asparagus for him, and cedar plank salmon with buttered vegetables for her, and noticed the uneasy way he sat in his chair as he surveyed the room and the people around them.

"Ignore them Erik, showing discomfort will only entice them more, rather like an antelope faltering in front of hungry lions."

He returned his gaze to her and smiled slightly, the unease still evident on his face. "Did you just compare your peers to savage beasts?" he asked her comically. Madison grinned unladylike, her laugh tinkling with unabashed pleasure, "yes, the analogy is rather fitting, is it not?"

He smiled and uncurled his fists to lay them flat against the tabletop. She placed a comforting hand upon his and ignored the sudden increase in chatter around them. "Thank you," she murmured sincerely, "I know that their speculation must make you very uncomfortable. And the only way that I can stand to sit here, listening to them, is because you are sitting here, with me."

He nodded dumbly, pulling his hands back as the waiter carried a large silver tray to their table, pulling the cover off and depositing their plates before them. He poured a bottle of their finest white wine into their glasses and discretely left them to their meal.

Snatches of hushed conversation drifted their way while Erik and Madison dined, "…there a ring?", "…can't see much…", "…makes you wonder what happened…", "…yes, always with that mask from what I hear from…", "…with the gypsies.", "Terribly improper do you not agree…", "her poor father…", "I wonder how far along she is…"

The last comment proved to be too terrible as Erik sought out the owner, a mousy woman in a dress that was in the height of fashion but an awful shade of mauve. He narrowed his startling gold eyes in silent threat. She squeaked in surprise, a harsh blush staining her cheeks, and looked away. From across the room Madison heard a shriek as the gossiper threw down her knife and fork, raised a hand to her mouth, shrieked, "did you hear that? My food screamed when I cut it!" and burst into tears.

Madison eyed Erik while casting furtive glances to the scene on the opposite end of the room. She had a sneaking suspicion that Erik's sudden good humor and the gossiper's fright were related. But two-dozen witnesses could vouch that his lips had never moved. She raised her eyebrow in silent question, but Erik merely tapped a finger to his lips and smiled.

She had expected as much from the towns people and while she was seething underneath the thought that he would leap to her sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Madison watched him glare at the others in the restaurant, stifling their rude comments. And she realized that she was falling head over heels in love with this strange, wonderful man.

The rest of the meal was eaten in comfortable silence as topic around the room turned to more mundane things. The novelty of Madison and Erik had worn thin.

Once the meal had been paid for they rose from their chairs and left the restaurant to walk the short distance to their little hotel.

She leaned her arm into his while they walked, her heels clacking sharply against the cobblestones, as carriages passed them and people milled about from shop to shop. A young woman pushed a lacy, white baby carriage ahead of her, dipping her head to Madison and Erik as she passed.

She looked back at the woman, who seemed to radiate happiness as she stopped the carriage to adjust the blankets protecting her infant from the weather, and Madison paused in mid-step. _'Would Erik and I have children…' _she wondered, and suddenly she found the prospect a little less terrifying than she had before. _'I feel that I could stand anything as long as he was beside me.'_

He looked down at her in silent question and she shook her head to get rid of the wool that had gathered while she had been lost in thought.

A moment later they arrived at the inn and Madison was whisked to her room by Sarah, while Erik watched them go and then climbed the stairs to make his way to his own room.

* * *

Dinner that night was a curious affair. While Madison was talking amicably with the elderly woman from breakfast, she would on occasion catch Erik's gaze. His eyes were smoldering pools of gold, catching the candlelight as he regarded her thoughtfully.

The way that he was watching her made her pause, unease filling her as she wondered what secret he had planned that he was gloating over. _'Oh dear,'_ she thought as she regretted, just a little, how much she had teased him that morning. She quirked her brow in question but he shook his head no and mouthed the word 'later' from across the table. Nodding in agreement she turned her attention back to Mrs. Turner who was regaling her with stories from her youth.

She smiled and nodded at the appropriate intervals in the conversation. Once dessert had been finished and Mr. and Mrs. Turner had excused themselves and gone to bed Erik and Madison were left alone at the table. A questioning look came over her face and she asked, "what?" Madison wasn't sure she wanted the answer.

He shook his head 'no' again and rose from the table. The legs of the chair scraped against the wooden floor as he made his way to where she was seated, and took her hand in his, helping her from her chair.

Erik stood a little too close than was proper once she had risen from the table, but when Madison made to step away he grasped her by her elbow. "What is it?" she whispered.

He smiled and leaned forward until his face brushed against her neck, his warm breath tickling the fine hairs, "you're perfume," he murmured, "it has been enchanting me all evening. It is new."

She nodded dumbly as her body suddenly became aware of how close they were standing. The butterflies once again began to flutter in her stomach. "You noticed…" she muttered, "yes, I bought it yesterday."

His grasp on her elbow loosened as his other hand rose to trace her jaw line and cup her chin, "I notice everything about you Madison. Always." But as he craned his head down to capture her parted lips in a kiss the door opened loudly as servants bustled into the room to clear the table. "Oh, pardon us, miss… sir…" one shy maid stammered.

He whispered into her ear, "meet me in the garden in a few moments, and bring the box," then stepped away. She nodded and watched him stalk away from the dining room. As her heart pounded wildly in her chest she thought to herself, _'oh yes, I am most definitely falling in love with him.'_

She hurried up to her room where Sarah was waiting to help her change from her dress to her nightclothes. "I have decided to tour the hotel's gardens with my fiancé," she told the maid as she grabbed her warm shawl and the box from the vanity table.

Madison walked briskly, Sarah in tow, down the stairs and out the back to the faintly lit garden. Gas lanterns hung on posts around the walkway lighting the gravel path through the carefully pruned rose bushes and trees until she made her way to the little wooden gazebo at the back. Sarah stopped to sit on a bench that was positioned so she would have a line of sight but be too far to hear gently spoken words.

He was standing in the shadow fingering a yellow rose from a climbing vine that had wrapped itself around one of the wooden posts. Erik turned to watch Madison's approach.

She climbed the three short steps of the gazebo until she stood next to him inside the structure. With a sigh of contentment she pulled the shawl around her and together they on the wooden bench. The nearby lantern that he'd brought cast a soft glow against him, softening the white mask until it seemed to blend into his skin. She hardly noticed it anymore.

Holding the wooden box, forgotten, against her leg she reached out to grasp his hand in hers, "now will you tell me what all of this oddness has been about this evening?"

"The box?" he asked, and pulled his hand from hers to nervously pull at and straighten his clothing. She handed it to him and watched as he turned it over in his palm, "here is how you open it," he explained. And holding it out to catch the light of their lantern he pressed on one panel of the inlaid wood until it slid ever so slightly to the right, then another slid further, and two more slid again until he placed his palm against the top panel and slid the whole thing off.

She exclaimed in delight at the intricate uniqueness of the design. Clasping her hands in front of her she watched as he slid the top panel off and reaching inside he pulled out another box, this one small and covered in black velvet.

Her breathing hitched as she swallowed hard past the lump now lodged in her throat and nervously fingered the soft fabric. "Open it," he begged her as he set the puzzle box down and turned to face her.

And when seconds passed which seemed more like hours she finally lifted the lid of the box to see the most beautiful ring that she had ever seen. A large emerald cut diamond caught and reflected the light within its setting of surrounding smaller diamonds in a filigreed band of warm, rose gold.

Erik paused, watching her carefully as she pulled the ring from the box and blinked heavily. He mistook her silence for displeasure, "if… if you do not like it we can exchange it for a different one," he began but was cut off as she turned to him.

"Oh, don't you dare take it back. Will you help me put it on?"

He nodded and carefully took the ring from her hand, and grasping her left hand he slid it past the knuckle to sit at the base of her fourth finger.

She stared at it a moment, mesmerized, before noticing that he was watching her in relieved amusement.

"Oh, Erik." She exclaimed as she tilted her head back to kiss him fully on the mouth, despite the protestations and sudden coughing fit of her chaperone. "I love it, it's beautiful," she told him as he splayed his hand against the side of her face and stroked one finger along her jaw.

She smiled impishly and leaned in for another kiss.

Madison ached to tell him of the new revelation of her feelings for him, felt the words bubbling up and about to spill over into the real world, but before she could do more than begin to part her lips he began to speak.

"I filed the necessary papers yesterday, we can be married three weeks from today."

He was startled when she pulled away from him, his hand slipping from her face as she stared up at him incredulously, "oh, Erik, we cannot be married so soon."

His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?" he asked, "I've given the papers to the clerk and paid the fee, our appointment at the church is for the sixth of December."

She stared at him in horror and evaded his hand, "you cannot be serious Erik. That is only two weeks after the ball."

He was getting angry, she could tell, but at this moment she could not have cared less. "I fail to see the problem," he stated coolly while trying to rein in his emotions.

She scoffed, making an unladylike sound, "of course you do not," she muttered cruelly.

He was angry now, which was evident by the way he did not make to reach for her again, instead letting his voice take a cruel, superior tone. "And just what does that mean?"

Madison crossed her arms and answered hotly, "it means that you do not understand because the rumors are not about you. A man can do as he pleases, but if a woman steps over the line then it becomes the town's gossip for the next six months. The entire town wonders about me and they are speculating that I am with child. The seamstress even had the gall to ask if there would be a rush on the production of my wedding dress!"

"What does that matter? You are not, as they will find out in a few months, and then the whole thing will blow over and they'll move on to something else."

Her mouth dropped open in shock and surprise, "blow over, you think that this thing will blow over if we hurry to get married? If we lived in the city, maybe, but I live hours away, in the country, and when I do not produce a child they will only assume that I lost it. It will never occur to them that I was never carrying to begin with, Erik. And by then the family name will be completely tarnished. We could lose business, Erik, over something like this."

"I think that you are blowing this out of proportion, Madison, surely they will forget the whole affair when some other tidbit of gossip occurs."

"Blowing this out of proportion, am I? So I am being irrational then, hmm?"

"There's really no need to be so upset, ma cherie," he answered.

"Upset?" she asked, her eyebrows rising, "oh, I'll give you upset! And what about asking me, hmmm? You didn't even bother to consult with me on the matter, just ran off one day to do it all on your own."

His eyes glinted dangerously, "calm down, Madison."

But it was the wrong thing to say. She shot to her feet to glare down at him, the ring box falling to the floor. "Don't you dare tell me to calm down. You may be my fiancé but you do not control me, Erik."

His hands tightened into fists at his side as he sought the last bit of control in his reserve, "maybe if you listened to my counsel, things such as this little predicament would not happen."

She took a step back as if he had actually assaulted her, placing a hand on her stomach to quell the beginnings of nausea. "So that's what this is about. All this time you've told me that it was not my fault, that I should not blame myself, but really you believed all along that I deserved to be punished for my foolishness, hmm?"

"I never…" he began to protest but was cut short.

"Don't." Her voice took on a dangerous tone, no longer yelling but it was softly spoken with a hint of steel. "Just, don't. Did you ever stop to think that it was our argument that drove me to ride out that night? That I had never planned to go, until you commanded me like you owned me? No, I guess that never occurred to you, that you were just as much at fault as I was."

**Erik**

He stared at her, unsure of what to do, of how to stop this argument before it ended poorly.

"Go back and change the date, Erik, before we leave tomorrow." And as she turned to leave the gazebo he called out to her.

"Or else… what?"

She threw a glance over her shoulder, meeting his eyes, "stop," she begged him, "don't say anything that will make me want to prove you wrong. Because you know how much I love to win."

He did, so he stayed silent, fuming in his anger and despair, as she and her maid traveled the short distance to the inn and disappeared inside.

Erik punched the wall of the gazebo until he felt skin split and warmth on his hand as blood ran in thin rivulets down his fingers. The pain helped clear the anger from his mind and allowed him to think.

**Madison**

Madison raised her arms as Sarah pulled the dress and corset off of her and folded them neatly into her valise. As Sarah left the room, she exchanged her used shift for a clean one, pulling off stockings and garters and the pins from her hair.

She felt numb as she moved through the motions of getting ready for bed. Only when she blew out the lamp and climbed under the covers did she allow the emotions of the day to wash over her.

The stinging beginnings of tears pricked her eyes as she wrapped her arms around herself and curled up on her side.

And when the sobs wracked her frame she covered her mouth to stifle any pitiful sounds. The diamond ring pressed against her cheek.


End file.
